


Don't Be Afraid

by k_ibum



Series: Where Darkness Resides [3]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-06-26 23:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_ibum/pseuds/k_ibum
Summary: A sequel to 'Where Darkness Resides', taking place six months later. Things have changed, and just when they're beginning to adapt the gang are thrown into another adventure, more dangerous than the last. At least this time, they're in it together.





	1. This is Your Story

_6 Months Ago_

“I understand you, the people, were told that the former King Hyunmin’s son disappeared years ago. Running away was a choice I made to become a stronger person, so that by the time I took the throne I would be a man instead of a boy. I did not experience the life of a noble boy, soon to be royal. I lived among you as a common person, worked and earned a living with my own blood, sweat and tears. And with the help of my friends, I was able to find and save the children who have been missing over the past year.

Unfortunately, I returned to King Hyunmin’s side too late. It is his time before this tragic heart attack that we will remember, and the future before us that we will look towards. As your king, I will do my best to provide for all people. Nobles, country folk, mages, working men. Our new kingdom begins today.”

Taemin had spoken before a selected amount of people in the castle hall after being given the crown. His words were scribed, spoken by messengers to the rest of the capital, then delivered to each surrounding town or village until the entire kingdom knew of their newly appointed king.

It felt wrong, speaking the words Jinki had written. Especially when most of them were lies or sounded as if he were taking credit for something he wouldn’t have done without his friends. 

King Hyunmin was mourned, with nobody discovering the truth of his evil. King Taemin rose to the throne, pretending he’d known all along that this was where he’d be. 

_Present_

He watches the figure as it rests, so far unaware of his presence. He’s been watching it for at least two minutes and has now finally decided to make his attack. He creeps out of the shadows with practiced steps, manoeuvring between tables and chairs. Closer now, he can recognise the object he desires that lays beneath the dozing creature’s arms. Slowly, quietly, until he’s near enough to reach out. His fingers brush the object, he only needs to grip it when…

In a movement as quick as lightning, the creature grabs his wrist! 

“What are you doing?” Kibum lifts his head from his pillowed arm, blinking tiredly. 

Jinki grins, his gaze flickering to the desired book still in the mage’s grasp. “I was just taking that, since you’re not reading it.”

“I am reading it.” A smile tugs at Kibum’s lips as he lets go of his wrist, leaning back in his chair. “I was just taking a break.”

“A break?” he looks over the mage’s work desk, which is currently covered in books and sheets and empty potion bottles. For someone who is usually so tidy, he certainly does make a mess while working. “Kibum, it’s past midnight. If you’re tired, go to bed.”

The mage scrunches his nose, shakes his head. He’s never liked being told what to do. 

“I’m n-not--” just as he prepares his rebuttal, a yawn escapes him. It’s cute. “I’m not tired.”

Jinki stares. Kibum crosses his arms and stares back at him with whatever remaining stubbornness he has.

“... Fine.” Kibum concedes with a quiet huff. His voice then turns soft. “Join me?”

Jinki’s room is only a floor above Kibum’s, but as time has passed they’ve been spending more time in each other’s beds together than alone in their own. He can’t say no, honestly. And Kibum knows it’s a yes before he’s even asked. Still, he nods.

The mage yawns a second time, not bothering to cover his mouth. “Mm... Go ahead, I have to clean up this mess.” 

As the royal physician, Kibum’s workspace consists of an entire room dedicated to potion making and healing of those who need urgent care. Even on its messiest days there’s a logical organisation of bookcases and potion cabinets by category and value. It’s a well-deserved upgrade from the tiny kitchen table he’d used at Minho’s old house. Jinki leaves the mage at his desk and moves towards the door at the back of the room, which leads into Kibum’s bedroom. 

Enveloped in the familiar warmth, Jinki leaves his shoes by the door and takes off his jacket to drop it on the closest cabinet. Candlelight magically fills each corner of the room. 

Taemin’s first goal as King had been to appoint his council, and he’d originally asked Kibum to be the new captain of the mages. Kibum had his own reasons at the time to decline, instead becoming the royal physician where he can practice his craft to heal rather than attack. Jinki had been surprised at the time but looking back it felt like the right choice for his boyfriend.

His boyfriend. Jinki still smiles foolishly to himself at the thought, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. A candle on the bedside table flickers firelight over a small wooden horse, and a potion bottle. He doesn’t need to inspect the bottle to know Kibum has had to make a refill of his sleep remedy. Jinki frowns, knowing now that if Kibum takes too much of the potion it drains on his magic. He wishes there was something he could do to make the bad dreams stop.

The bedroom door clicks open, and he abandons the thoughts in favor of greeting his boyfriend as he enters the room.

“What’s wrong?” Kibum closes the door behind him, kicking off his shoes. He has quick eyes.

“I missed you.” Jinki replies easily, his smile growing as the mage steps towards him. 

“Really.” Kibum chuckles as he takes off his jacket, tossing it on top of Jinki’s. “I didn’t see much of you today.”

He hums, reaching out his hands for the mage to take. “We had a long day.” with their fingers locked, Jinki tugs the mage closer until he willingly climbs into his lap. “I only just got out, but something tells me Taemin’s still hovering over those letters.”

“Right, the letters.” Kibum seems to have already lost interest, now snaking his arms around Jinki’s neck. Jinki watches him patiently, holding his waist. 

If someone had told him six months ago he’d be here in the castle, with Kibum sitting so naturally in his lap, Jinki might’ve scoffed in disbelief. While he’d always believed in Taemin achieving his journey to the throne, there’d been some hesitation in hopes for his own happiness. Yet, here they are. Surrounded by candlelight, wrapped in each other. 

Kibum leans down and their lips meet, Jinki humming gently in agreement, he holds the mage against him. They stay like this for a few minutes, content in the still of the night, kissing gently. When they pull apart their noses brush, breaths mix, two hands cup Jinki’s cheeks before he’s guided into a deeper kiss, one that whispers Kibum missed him too. 

His slides his hands underneath Kibum’s shirt, the skin shivering at his touch. Words that can’t be said, words than can be, expressed through the way their bodies blend together. Kibum is strong but he’s soft to touch, from the skin beneath Jinki’s fingers to the lips pressed against his. Kibum is beautiful. Kibum is the man he loves. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

They jump at the sound, pulling back to look towards the door.

“I-I’m sorry for intruding, Kibum sir.” a small voice sounds from behind the wood. “Is sir Jinki with you? King Taemin wishes to see him.”

Kibum sighs, tired eyes shifting to drone into Jinki’s. “Really?” 

Jinki smiles, apologetically. “Thank you, Joohyuk.” he calls out to the servant boy. “Tell the king I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, th-thank you.” the boy replies, then his footsteps are heard drifting away from the bedroom door.

“I’m not moving.” Kibum declares from his spot in Jinki’s lap. “Royal advisor or not, you have a right to undisturbed time with your boyfriend.”

The mage is truly so breathtaking, even when annoyed with their king. 

“I’m sure Taemin wouldn’t call for me if it wasn’t important.” he reasons, pressing a light kiss to the man’s neck. A smile plays on his lips. “You’re welcome to come with me.”

Kibum groans, and steps out of his lap. The mage glares at him, arms crossed, very unimpressed. “That kid sees your kindness and makes the most of it. Nobody else would be at his beck and call so late at night.”

“Minho, maybe.” the advisor suggests, standing from the bed and stepping in to peck Kibum’s cheek. “I love you. Don’t wait up.” 

The mage’s lips twitch. “I love you, too.”

It’s all he needs to hear. Jinki picks up a jacket and slips his shoes back on before leaving the royal physician’s room. With it now being the last month of winter, the castle corridors are freezing at night. He picks up his pace as he reaches the stairs and is puffing out chilly smoke by the time he reaches the king’s bedroom. When he’d left him thirty minutes ago Taemin had moved from his office to his room, and sure enough that’s where he is now.

“Taemin.” he speaks casually with the door closed. “It does you no good to be stressing this late.”

The young king sits at his private dining table, two parchments laid out before him with numerous other sheets of paper. There are heavy bags under his eyes, his hair sticking in different directions. Jinki understands, as much as he doesn't want to see his friend so caught in his thoughts.

“I know, sorry.” Taemin meets his concern with a lopsided grin, making an effort to stay sane. “I just… I wanted to make sure this is the right thing to do.”

It was during a council meeting two weeks ago that Taemin suggested requesting for a meeting with the leaders of their neighbouring kingdoms. The proposal was met with shock, then hesitation, and a firm decline from Kibum in particular. Jinki didn’t see Queen Seohyun or King Kyein himself, but he’s heard enough from his boyfriend since to know that Kyein is nowhere near the kind of king he’d want anyone to associate with.

“Well… You said it yourself, Taemin.” Jinki began, taking the chair opposite his king. “You want to revaluate the way the country is divided, and bring an end to the hostility. And you can’t do that with only two thirds of the country.” 

“Yeah...” the king sighs, leaning heavily on his elbows. “Minho’s chosen one of his top knights to deliver the letters, someone who can drop it and get out should things become dangerous.”

Jinki hates being reminded of the pain both his king and lover went through under that man’s control.

“Kyein proved to be fine when the crown was returned to him.” he recalls the worry then, and how it was all okay in the end. 

“That was six months ago.” Taemin shakes his head. “I can’t help feeling like he’s still a threat.”

Jinki hesitates, his gaze dropping to the two letters. They’d spent all day drafting and redrafting them, ensuring the wording was welcoming yet strong. Eloquent without sounding like someone other than Taemin wrote them. 

“Follow your gut, Taemin.” Jinki advises, wanting to encourage his friend. “You have something you want to achieve, and you have the power to attempt it. Besides, like we discussed earlier, if Kyein were to find out you’d arranged a meeting with Seohyun and not him, he would likely see it as a plot against him and his kingdom.” 

“I know. And you’re right.” Taemin still looks unconvinced, despite his words. “I’m not asking them to abandon their own ways for us, but it’s been so many years since the rulers met up that the laws between us are… Ancient.” the king pauses. “You should’ve seen Seohyun’s kingdom, Jinki. Their food, their culture, even just how they looked was so different. But _good_ different.”

“You think we could share our ways with them?”

Taemin shrugs. “There’s only an invisible line dividing us.”

The young king then straightens in his chair and rolls up the letters. Jinki watches quietly as he stamps each one, wrapping a green string around the first and a red string around the second. So, it seems he’s decided. He only looks up when he’s done, eyes round. The advisor smiles, and finally gets a real one in return. 

“Will it still be okay for me to take that week off?” he asks after another beat of silence.

Taemin blinks, and his mind catches up. “Oh, yeah. It’s about time you went back to Taebaek.”

It’s kind of funny, how Jinki had come to the capital intending to stay no longer than a month. Almost nine months have passed since the day he found Kibum in that empty potions store, and so much has happened it’s sometimes hard to remember there’s still a home awaiting his return in Taebaek. 

“It has been a while.” he agrees, understating it. “I’ll write to Kyunghee and let her know I’m coming.”

“Aren’t you taking Kibum with you?” 

“Kibum…” Jinki thinks over his words, now reminded of the mage alone in bed. “Taebaek doesn’t have many happy memories for him. I’ve asked him to come, he just isn’t… sure.” 

Taemin stifles a yawn. “Kibum doesn’t have many happy memories anywhere.”

“He does here.” he insists. “I know he turned down your offer to be captain, but he does look happy as the physician. I think he enjoys working by himself, without the pressure of dealing with people the way the royal knights and mages do.”

“I get that.” the king does yawn this time, stretching out his long arms and legs. “You should go to bed. I’ll see both of you at the meeting tomorrow.”

“Ah, right.” Jinki pushes his chair back and stands, feeling the day’s exhaustion settling into his bones. 

“Oh, and--” Taemin grins, looking him up and down. “Give your boyfriend’s jacket back, would you? It’s too obvious when I saw you only an hour ago.”

Jinki startles, and upon inspection of his sleeves he realises he must’ve picked up Kibum’s jacket instead of his own. A soft blush creeps up his cheeks, though there’s no reason to be embarrassed.

He chuckles. “Okay. Goodnight, your highness.”

By the time he’s navigated through the castle corridors, crossed Kibum’s study, and entered the bedroom the mage is already under the sheets, seemingly asleep. Jinki takes off the jacket and shoes, and pads quietly across the floor to the bed. Kibum’s eyes are closed. He joins him, laying by his side.

“What disaster did you save the kingdom from this time?”

Kibum opens his eyes after he speaks, eyes puffy as if he had fallen asleep. Jinki can’t help but scoot closer, curling an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. He feels apologetic for waking him, but a part of him is happy he’s awake. 

“Taemin was just worried about the letters.” he presses a kiss to Kibum’s forehead, breathes him in. “I can’t blame him, it’s a big deal.”

Kibum hums, brows pulling together. “I still don’t think it’s right to contact Kyein. Even if it’s just an invitation.”

“If Kyein does come to the meeting, I’m going to keep him as far away from you as possible.” Jinki swears by it, hand slipping back under the mage’s shirt to pull him against him. “He won’t touch you or see you. I promise.”

“I’m not worried about me.” Kibum’s voice softens, lifting a hand to run through Jinki’s hair. They search each other’s eyes for a moment, the warm glow of candlelight still flickering around the room. “But fine, it’s done. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

There’s an unspoken trust between them, that should there be something that needs to be said it will be. 

“What do you want to do, then?” 

“Continue from where we left off.”

They share a smile and meet each other in the middle. 

Staring at a roof has never been so interesting until now. 

Taemin lays in bed, morning sun spilling through his window and the late winter chill daring him to get out from under the covers. Every part of his body begs him to stay in bed, to finally get the sleep he failed to get all night. He seriously considers it, when he remembers his talk with Jinki last night and has to curse himself for ordering a meeting in the damn morning.

There’s a creak of his bedroom door opening, and a prolonged click when it’s closed. Taemin stares hard at the roof before pushing himself to sit up, his movement startling the intruder.

“I told you, Seungwan.” the king tries to sound authoritative, but sleepiness escapes him. “You don’t have to greet me in the mornings.”

The female servant seems unfazed by his mood, bowing deeply in greeting. “Good morning, your highness. I understand you don’t want any servants in your room until you leave, but I thought you’d like to hear this first.”

He blinks warily. “What is it?”

“Sir Mandae has just left for his quest.” Seungwan announces. “He asked me to tell you he’ll be back as soon as possible.” 

Right, Mandae. The knight who would be delivering the letters across the kingdoms. To visit Queen Seohyun, and King Kyein, standing against the law that claims a ruler can do whatever they wish with a trespassing outsider. Something uncomfortable stirs in his gut, but he wills it away.

“Would you like breakfast before or after the meeting, your highness?” Seungwan switches her weight between both feet, speaking after a long pause of silence. 

“Uh…” Taemin blinks. “After. Yeah, after.”

The servant bows again, then makes a turn to leave.

“Oh-- Wait.” he swings his legs out of the sheets, biting back a curse when the cold hits him. “If you happen to run into him, ask Minho to come here. I have something to discuss with him before the meeting.”

Seungwan brightens at the order, bowing once more with a little more enthusiasm. “Yes, of course! I’ll meet you later with your breakfast, your highness.”

With the young woman finally out of his room, Taemin dresses and warms his fingertips with flickers of fire magic. He waits by the window, his now familiar view of the capital. The people are waking, the noise on the streets growing, a great white blanketing roofs and windowsills. The king sighs, and frosted smoke pours from his lips. Winter in the castle has been miraculously warmer than it ever was in that cave, even with Taemin’s magic. It must be how noblemen write of winter so poetically-- they’ve never experienced the reality of the cold. 

Eventually his door creaks open again, and the young king turns to greet his captain of the royal knights.

“Hey.” Taemin says. How very articulated. 

“Seungwan said you had an important matter to discuss.” Minho begins, closing the door behind him. “Are you making your loyal servants run around for no reason, again?”

“I told her only if she bumps into you, it wasn’t a real order.”

Minho stares. “But you knew she’d take it seriously.”

Taemin’s lip twitches. “Maybe. She was very eager.”

“You’re ridiculous.” and then Minho is laughing, with the casual ease of being behind closed doors. “And you look like a corpse. Did you sleep at all last night?”

The attack is uncalled for. Taemin scoffs, crossing the room. “Those of brilliant mind never sleep, Minho.”

“Really? Who says?”

“Only the most brilliant of them all.” he throws on his winter cloak, willingly drowning in it. “Me.”

“Ridiculous. Again.”

Minho walks towards him, the window’s light spilling through and flashing against the silver of his armour. It has always suited him well, like the knight’s chainmail is his skin and breast plate his ribs. Closer now, he’s reminded that Minho will always be that little bit taller than him. Not that Taemin has the fragile masculinity to be offended by this, obviously. It’s just a fact. Like, how even under all that armour he can notice the bulk of Minho’s muscles, his strength. That’s only an observation. 

“Come on, we should get going.” Minho says, breaking whatever thought he’d been trailing towards.

But he wants to spend a little longer, together like this.

“Yeah, alright.”

The castle is large, and though the walls are thick it is unable to fully protect them from the winter’s chill. The corridors are long, stairs rising high and sinking low, it took Taemin a while to remember what was where. Now he can walk to these corridors with ease, and a strange sense of power. Guards bow as he walks pass, and stand attentive when he approaches them.

Seungwan had told him once that the servants revere his presence, that the castle had felt full of dark clouds and uncertainty until the day Hyunmin died. That with his becoming of king, the castle had filled with light. Taemin hadn’t understood at the time, and still doesn’t, how despite the general population’s opinion the servants had sensed Hyunmin’s evil. Why they thought Taemin would be any better at ruling. The corridors feel cold all the same.

The first to arrive, he lights the candles and takes his seat at the head of the table. The meeting hall consists only of a large table, and chairs. With no windows to ensure utmost privacy for conversations it looks more like a gloomy, oversized cave. Perfect. Just how he likes it. 

He and Minho don’t have to wait long for the others to arrive. Joohyun enters, soon followed by Jinki and Kibum. A small council is all he needs to discuss any ideas for the kingdom, with people he can trust to keep it between them. 

“Mandae left to deliver the letters this morning.” Taemin begins, feeling four sets of eyes on him. “He’ll hopefully return to us… Soon. And with good news.”

Kibum’s disapproval is obvious even when he isn’t trying to show it. 

“He will.” Minho insists. “He’s a good knight, a loyal one.”

Okay, well. That was addressed. “So… What of the officers? The first lot went out over a month ago, right?”

Taemin’s original plan when taking the throne was to abolish the rule that only those of noble blood could become knights. Jinki had advised against it, as it would cause a protest from the noble families. In the end, even suggesting the alternative officers proved to be difficult. Taemin wants to keep everyone happy, but changes have to be made. So eventually men and women trained, albeit with less time and little glory compared to the noble knights, to become protectors of the rural towns. 

It was the first thing he’d accomplished as King. The nobles kept their precious tradition, and the rural people were provided with protection. 

“They have settled in, and there already seems to be a decrease in criminal offenses.” Minho confirms. “Officers have to work harder to earn respect, but I’ve seen them in action. They’re just as commanding as any knight.” 

“There’s been fewer shadow attacks, as well.” Joohyun reports, her soft voice always surprising Taemin at first. “The usual sightings from travellers, but the only three known attacks in the last month came from hunters. They seem to be… Dwindling.”

Taemin pauses. “What was it like when Hyunmin ruled?”

“Once all knights were stationed in the capital, there were close to no serious attacks. But outside the capital… I’m not sure how many were reported, but I believe many towns were left vulnerable.”

Kibum looks to her. “Like the village Jinki and I passed through, they were being raided nightly but had no way of contacting the capital.” 

“Most research on shadows is based on observation, or speculation.” Jinki speaks. “There aren’t any real answers as to why they appear, or how.”

“Okay, well…” Taemin stares at a candle for inspiration. “Even if those suckers aren’t an issue to us now, they won’t lay around forever. If you can, find the time to research more about them.”

Joohyun nods. 

“Of course.” Jinki, good Jinki, sweet Jinki, could never do any wrong Jinki, continues. “Onto another matter, about your involvement with the people. You’ve been confined up here so long, I suggest an… event, of sorts.”

The king grins. “What, a party?”

“A festival.” Kibum drones in, though there’s a smile in his gaze. “I told him about Queen Seohyun’s birthday celebration.”

“It’d be a good way to boost the morale of the people, get the excited about something.” his adviser says. “Help them see you in a more positive light.”

Taemin blinks. “Positive?”

“I’m afraid they don’t see you at all, your highness.” Joohyun doesn’t speak up often, but when she does it’s always to state a fact. It kind of stings. “Many respect you for saving the lost children, and some can see the good you’ve provided since. But you told them you’d be a king for all the people, then you took the throne and haven’t left it since.”

Alright. So, this meeting is an attack against him. He does admit to himself, however, that saying it’s too cold outside will only work so much longer. 

_What kind of king do you want to be?_

Taemin remembers the question Jinki had asked him months ago, back when a large part of him had yet to accept his fate for the crown. 

“We’re approaching the anniversary since the end of the last war. We should use that to revive the old peace festival.” Jinki says, and it’s another decision that’s been made for him.

The meeting closes sometime after, that fated memory sticking to the bottom of Taemin’s boot and haunting him out of the hall. Waiting by the door is a young girl, round eyes and drowning in a coat only her protective mother would have insisted on wrapping around her. Taemin doesn’t usually feel a great deal of affection for children, but this one’s an exception.

“Why hello, Eunbi.” the girl jumps at the sound of his voice, but grins upon recognising him.

“Your highness.” Eunbi courtesy’s, though it’s rushed and with little real politeness. She definitely didn’t learn that from Joohyun. “I’m waiting for mother, is she coming?”

Taemin forgets his duties for a minute or two. “She is. Are you spending the day with her?”

Eunbi shakes her head. “Nope. Mother is taking me to class, and then I’m visiting Kibum. He’s going to teach me more magic.” 

Hearing the others approaching from the hall, he reaches out to ruffle her hair. “Study hard, and I’ll teach you a good spell to prank Kibum.”

“I heard that.”

Shoot. Kibum.

Taemin springs to his feet, waves to Eunbi and without looking back hurries down the corridor. Whilst Kibum is good at exacting revenge, the physician can never be bothered chasing him through the castle. Down a couple flights of stairs, along a few more corridors, cutting through the courtyard, and he finds himself at the front gate to the caste. The two knights guarding it step to either side, bowing deeply for their king.

“Your highness, let us escort you through the capital.” one guard says. 

“No, I’ll be fine by myself.” Taemin shrugs off the pressure. 

No big deal. He’s just walking out into crowds of people. He’s done it plenty of times before, this shouldn't be any different. Taemin won’t be a ruler who hides beneath his crown. At the reminder, he touches his head to make sure he isn’t wearing the damned thing. No, he’s good. 

A beat later, and he realises the guards have already opened the gates for him. 

It’s now or never. 


	2. Where I Belong

Partly melting snow crunches beneath his steps. The streets are filled with life, with merchants and shopkeepers shouting into the crowd and people flocking towards the nearest bargain. Mothers carrying groceries, small children trailing behind them. Taemin wraps his cloak securely around him, thanking his morning self for choosing one of the less kingly styles. Anyone who looks at him will see him as a noble, both because of his attire and the fact that nobody would expect their king to be roaming the streets unguarded. 

Unguarded, and ill prepared. It just now occurs to him that maybe storming out of the castle immediately after the meeting wasn’t the most genius of ideas, because he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. Mingling with the people. Ah, yes. The question of how still remains. 

Taemin notices some stores as he passes them but struggles to recognise anybody. As a boy he’d ran around here often, until he ran away from home and stuck himself in that mountain. His gaze lingers to the horizon, just briefly, and even from here he can see it towering above the woods. He hasn’t connected to the upper capital and its upper class people for a long time. The lower town is where he spent most of his life, so towards that is where he goes. 

The closer he gets to the lower town, however, the less enticed he feels. There are a few times when patrolling knights pass by, and he has to pull up his hood in fear of being spotted. Nothing says going out to socialise with the people like avoiding absolutely every one of them. By the time he gets to the tavern he has to stop. The tavern. His former second home. 

He watches it, silently, the winter breezes biting at his hands as it drifts by. It’s too early, it’s too late. Nobody will be in there at this time of the morning. 

Taemin’s feet take him elsewhere.

The cave in the mountain, once shrouded in darkness and now just like any other hole big enough to be inhabited. The last time Taemin came here it was scattered with dead bodies, and he’d lit it on fire from the inside out. Now, there is nothing. He peers inside, then sends one last glance towards the capital before stepping through the entrance. 

It should feel empty, because physically it is empty. The walls, blank. Yet the air is thick with darkness, the memories of everything that happened within these walls. Kibum’s kidnapping, his torture, and the death of those who harmed him. The discovery of Hyunmin’s true evil, and the first time Taemin’s magic had slipped out of his control. He breathes it in now. Lays on the cold ground, and stares at the cave roof. 

He’s carried away, somewhere, elsewhere. This no longer feels like home. The cave is separate from him now, far away. 

“Of all places.” a voice filters from the cave entrance. Taemin sits up and meets the intense stare of Minho. “You chose to come here first?”

The knight’s figure is mostly a silhouette, the daylight shining in from behind him. Arms crossed, body against the wall, there doesn’t seem to be any judgement in his tone. Despite his words, Minho obviously isn’t surprised to find him here. 

“Well, we all know I’m great at making terrible impulse decisions.” Taemin grins, leaning back onto his palms. 

“You really should let someone escort you in the streets.” the joke remains ignored by Minho. “It’s okay when you can blend into the crowd, but that won’t be the case for long.”

Minho’s constant need to keep every person he knows safe is cute. Honestly. Really. Considering the fact that out of everyone (except perhaps Kibum, and Joohyun) Taemin is the one who needs the least protection. 

“Hey.” this time Taemin ignores him. “You know that old myth that the ruler of the kingdom would be blessed by the mother of nature with ultimate magic? Do you think killing the former king disqualifies me from it?” 

“I think you’re enough of a menace already.” Minho comments, then steps inside. Watching him sit on the ground beside him is like a small victory, and Taemin grins. “Seriously, though. Why here?”

Taemin shrugs. It’s not like he left the castle intent on ending up in this hole. “I don’t know. A consultation with my former self? A revaluation of my previous life choices? Take your pick.”

He’s disappointed Minho from the moment he met him. It’s tragic, sure, but it’s also what makes it easier to talk about shit. Not that Taemin frequently talks about shit, but should there be the need to, his royal knight is the top contender to listen to such shit. Jinki is too optimistic. Kibum has suffered because of him enough already. This is the best scenario. Because Minho knows the worst of him and doesn’t expect him to be anything more than who he is. 

It’s cold. Taemin makes a ball of fire, hanging it above them. 

“And has this... trip down memory lane been worth your time?” the knight looks to him.

“I don’t know.”

Silence, then Minho speaks. “Just because things have changed, doesn’t mean you have to distance yourself from whatever reminds you of the past. The people who knew you before and liked you then, will still like you now.”

“Nah.” Taemin scoffs. “With the amount of bullshit I said about Hyunmin in the tavern, they probably think I’m a joke now.” 

“Maybe. You’re the one who hasn’t been back there since you left to save the kingdom.” 

Taemin groans, holding his head in his hands. “I _don’t know_. I wasn’t raised for this. I rejected the noble life, and now I’m the fucking king. Nobody prepared me for this.”

“You said living as a commoner was your strength.”

“That was Jinki’s words, not mine.” the speech he’d given to the people, the words he’d reassured himself with since. “We all know I’m underqualified for this damn position.” 

Minho doesn’t respond with words, not immediately. Instead the knight gets to his feet, forcibly hauls Taemin off his ass, and holds out one of his two swords. Taemin blinks at him, cautiously taking the sword.

“If you’ve got issues, do something about them.” Minho steps back, into a fighting position. “You’re above wallowing in self-pity, Taemin.”

He has a point, Taemin mentally relents. He throws off his cloak and holds up the sword. Swinging around steel isn’t the most recommended tactic to dealing with emotional trauma, but he feels like it’s the right thing for him right now. 

Taemin feels the soil under his feet, the flame burning above. “Come on, then.” 

Minho is obviously a skilled fighter and wasn’t made captain of the knights for no reason. In a purely physical duel between the two of them Taemin isn’t arrogant enough to think he stands a chance without his magic, yet accepts the challenge anyway. Minho is obviously good at throwing in taunts, and the more he does the more Taemin wants to beat him. Just to shut him up. He’s right about too many things. 

Because Taemin is angry. He’s frustrated about the position he was thrusted into for the sake of the kingdom, and the fact that to this day people continue to remember Hyunmin fondly. That man, who beat him down. Told him he was nothing, would never be anything. Fuck him. And fuck his mother, for standing by while it happened. And fuck Hyunmin for not being a decent king. Fuck Jungha for being an evil bitch and hurting his friends. Fuck Kyein for still being alive. 

He manages to pin Minho against the wall for a total of five seconds before they switch, hitting the wall with a grunt and trying to push the stubborn knight off him. They’re close. Minho gets in his face, the both of them panting. 

“Asshole.” Taemin mutters, failing to shove the weight away. 

Minho grins, and his breath catches. Fuck Minho. Taemin’s about to whip out a spell when the knight looks down, his expression shifting slightly. “The carving disappeared.”

Two children, two names, too many memories. It’s just as well it was destroyed with everything else.

“Obviously. I did set this place on fire.” the king responds, though maybe a part of him is disheartened by the fact. “I’m not Taejoon anymore.” 

The pressure against his sword loosens, but Minho doesn’t pull away. Their eyes meet. Taemin considers a spell that would remove all of the knight’s attractiveness. Make him real ugly. It’s too much to look at him right now, this close.

“Taejoon would’ve done anything for you, you know.” the words escape Taemin before he thinks them. He regrets it immediately. 

“Really?” Minho has the guts to look cocky, stepping back just slightly. “And what about Taemin?” 

That’s it. A gust of magic and the knight’s feet are pull out from underneath him, his body falling to the ground with a clank and a thud. While Minho rubs off his wounded ego, Taemin’s gaze trails towards the blank wall.

He’s right. There’s nothing left for him here, not even the good memories. Taemin said goodbye to this place the moment he’d engulfed it in flames, he can’t come back here anymore. This isn’t his home. 

He should be somewhere else. 

Returning to the tavern the second time should be easier now, considering his mini epiphany or whatever that experience was, but it isn’t. It’s lunch break now, which means the tavern is going to be filled with the regulars. They’ll be too busy. He shouldn’t disturb the hard workers. Minho nudges his shoulder, and Taemin is forced to remember he has a supervisor now. So, in he goes.

There’s the familiar ring of the bell as he swings open the door, and he’s instantly overwhelmed by a rush of familiarity. The smell of wood, the sound of chatter and clinking drinks, everything looks the same as he’d left it. He breathes a sigh of relief upon spotting Hyoyeon behind the bar instead of a stranger. The relief is short-lived, however, once he notices the eyes zoning in on him.

“Who the fuck are you?” a stocky, bearded man calls out from the bar. 

“Me?” Taemin points to himself, then takes slow strides towards the man. “I’m… the king. And you’ve just insulted the king. Do you know what the punishment for insulting the king is?”

Now face to face with the insulter, he holds up his chin and looks him straight in the eye. Challenges him. Threatens him. 

The man scrunches his nose, scratches his beard, and looks the king up and down. “Well I bloody hope it’s not your singing. The kingdom has suffered enough as is.”

Taemin’s lip twitches. Then something bubbles from his chest, and before he knows the two of them are laughing. The man, Sanghwa, leans back in his stool and his belly shakes.

“You took your sweet time getting here!” Sanghwa, a regular since before Taemin was hired, gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Good to finally have your royal ass back in the tavern.”

Taemin grins. “Sorry, I was busy trying to save this kingdom. Singing didn’t seem to do the trick.”

The bell rings as Minho enters. There’s still plenty of eyes on him, some people having turned to murmurs. It won’t be long until word gets out that the king is out in public. 

Hyoyeon approaches him now, from behind the bar. “If you’re here looking for a new job, I can’t help you.” she jokes, and pours a glass of cider. “We’re not interested in staff who suddenly skip town without notice.”

That, he does feel somewhat guilty about. He accepts the glass when it’s handed to him and takes a chug. “And tell me, how has business been since people found out this once belonged to the king?” 

“Booming!” she laughs. “But mostly because I’ve done everything you didn’t bother to do.” 

“That sounds circumstantial.” Taemin says, noticing Minho taking a seat at the opposite end of the bar. Fair enough. He has to do this alone. “You didn’t hire strippers, did you?”

“Strippers?” Hyoyeon almost looks offended, a hand to her chest. “First of all, they are experienced dancers with only the highest respect. And that’s not everything I’ve done, come on.” 

The new tavern owner gives Taemin a rundown of the improvements she’s made since he left, including the currently under construction extension to replace his old second bedroom. Sanghwa, and some of the other customers, then begin harassing him for details about his plans as king. About the officers, taxes, better work conditions for working men and women such as themselves, and so on. Taemin does his best to keep up, but soon enough more people begin to stream into the tavern and less leave. It becomes too much. 

“Take the back door.” Hyoyeon offers him during a pause in conversation, and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s out of there. 

Fresh air is a blessing, freedom from people even more so. 

Minho appears beside him, and they walk up the empty backstreet towards the castle.

“How was it?” the knight asks.

Taemin holds his cloak close, but finds the cold isn’t as bad as it was before. 

“It was a start.”

“Does this mean dragons are gone forever?”

Kibum looks to the little mage as she asks yet another question, her eyes wide with curiosity. Eunbi is an inquisitive child (as many tend to be) and has an endearingly bright personality given what she’s experienced, so he doesn’t mind caring for her when she has no classes and her mother’s preoccupied with work. 

He smiles gently and sets his pen aside from whatever writing he’d been doing. “Before that day Jinki and I stopped the attack, there hadn’t been a dragon sighting for a very long time. But that doesn’t tell us they’re extinct. I think they just don’t want to be around humans anymore.”

Eunbi considers this from her spot at the desk, her lips pursed. “I guess that makes sense. If I was a dragon I’d much prefer to hang out with other cool dragons than stinky humans.”

“Exactly.” he notices the book under her hands, closed with the back cover facing up. “You’ve already finished the book?”

The girl grins. “Nope, I’m bored of it.” she then tilts her head to one side. “I want to hear more of your stories.” 

Kibum shakes his head. While she’s supposed to be reading this book for her classes, he knows it’s that time of the day where she’s lost any motivation to focus on words on a page. “I’ve told you all the good ones.”

“You haven’t told me about your adventure with the king…”

“I will. When you’re older.” 

He remembers Jinki sitting at the opposite end of the study. It may be nice of the advisor to mind his own business, but a helping hand would be appreciated. Like telepathy Jinki suddenly rises from his chair, dusts off his pants.

“Rightio, Eunbi!” Jinki beams as he walks towards them. “I have some things to pick up from the street. How about we go on our own adventure?” 

That was all it took for the girl to jump from her chair and abandon any remaining hopes of finishing her book. Kibum shares a look with his boyfriend before he’s guiding Eunbi out of the study, onto their so-called adventure. He can still hear Eunbi’s voice when the door shuts behind them. Left alone in his great study, Kibum lets out a sigh and tries to get back to work.

He likes his position as royal physician. It can get mundane at times, if all he’s doing is writing out recipes or reading the same aged books or making unsuccessful potions. The times a new potion does work is what makes it worthwhile, or the rush when somebody ill is brought to him and he manages to find the right cure. Any mage will treasure their magic, but Kibum finds real joy in using both that and his smarts to heal somebody. He’s contributing to society, in a good way.

There’s a soft knock at his door. He calls whoever it is in, and is quietly surprised when Joohyun enters.

“You finish early?” he asks, receiving a wordless nod as Joohyun crosses the study.

“Thank you, again. For looking after Eunbi.” she takes the chair across from his.

“It’s no problem. Honestly.” Kibum reassures, then gestures to the lonely book still on his desk. “She just has to finish that before her next literature class.”

Joohyun nods a second time. She’s always been quiet and cautious, a vast contrast to the loud personalities at the small council. He knows most of it is simply her personality, but he senses there’s more to it than that. It doesn’t seem fair that after being in their council for this long, she seems to still feel like she can’t open up.

“She’s doing really well, you know.” Kibum speaks of the mage’s daughter. “She was so withdrawn when we first met, and now she’s like any other bright kid.”

Joohyun finally smiles. “I know. She’s still shy with strangers, but I think she’ll be ready for full time school soon.” 

The children who’d been taken by Hyunmin were exposed to extreme levels of dark magic, and it was the bad kind. In addition to that, the mere trauma of their suffering has led to months of therapy and re-adapting to society. Feeling normal again was hard enough for Kibum, he can’t imagine what it’s like for small and vulnerable children. 

“Eunbi likes you a lot, too.” she continues. “I think… you’ve done so much, for her. You’ve shown her what it’s like to come out the other end and still be a content, good person. I’m just… Sorry. That you had to go through all of it.”

Okay. The praise is unexpected. He feels the guilt at the end, though.

“I’ve told you before, Joohyun.” but he needs to tell her again, now. “I don’t blame you for anything that happened to me back then. With Jungha, or Hyunmin. You were trying to save Eunbi, and from where you stood I looked like the culprit. I understand.”

Joohyun pulls her cuffs over her knuckles, draws her gaze to the wood of the desk. “Hyunmin… while he was king, he once said that there’s no good or evil, just different perspectives, different opinions.” she doesn’t share much about her former king, not usually. “I believed him, until I found out it was he who took the children. That I’d been blindly following an evil man the whole time.”

“You didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t. And I’ve been trying to make up for my mistakes ever since.” he hasn’t heard Joohyun speak this much in such little time before, a determination shining in her gaze. “I don’t… trust men very easily. But I trust you, and the rest of the small council. I believe in our king because I saw his face when he killed his father. I want to prove to all of you that you can trust me, too.” 

“You’ve already proved yourself.” Kibum tries. “You’re the captain of the royal mages. You’re one of us.”

And so, two people so accustomed to being alone are reminded once more; they have each other. They have their friends. Whatever chaos spills into their lives, they’ll overcome together. Kibum never thought he’d feel such pride in himself, in those around him. When Eunbi and Jinki return, his heart swells.

Something to lean on, to fight for. The shadows aren’t so daunting with them nearby.


	3. The Splendid Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Peace Festival has arrived, and with it comes a whole lot of questions that Taemin doesn't have the answers for.

Preparations for the Peace Festival begin almost immediately, with excitement filling the capitol from the lower town all the way to the castle. It’ll be the first festival they’ve had in years, both former kings having forgotten about the traditions of their kingdom. Speaking of royalty, the more time Taemin spends amongst the people the harder it’s becoming to simply walk down the streets. Strange stares, flocks of people approaching him to ask questions. Jinki insists it’ll back off eventually. Taemin bites his tongue, because even if it’s frustrating there’s a part of him that enjoys it.  
  


It’s unexpected, this enjoyment. Not long ago Taemin was cursing the people of the capitol for being idiots, who blindly admired the false words of King Hyunmin. Perhaps they’re none the wiser now, with Taemin on the throne. And Taemin has no idea what he’s doing, or if he’s doing any of it right. Yet talking to the people gives him confidence, the more he mentions his plans (the smaller ones, that is). They praise him, commend his efforts, thank him, and at times add their own suggestions. They notice him, he is not hidden in the crowd like he used to be. There is no terrifying rumour spreading about him, for crimes he’d never committed. It’s bizarre, but it’s not bad.  
  


“Such a bummer Kibum isn’t going to Taebaek with you.” Taemin drags another foot onto another step, the castle staircases always feeling like they go on forever. “He’s so much scarier without you around.”  
  


Jinki chuckles from beside him. They’re just returning from another journey in the capitol, this time the adviser being the one who insisted on escorting the king. Taemin had stopped insisting on going alone once the attention got overwhelming.  
  
“Kibum is his own person, I doubt he’s that different just because I’m not in the room with him.”

  
“Oh no, he’s different.” The king explains. “He doesn’t even say anything, but I can physically feel his tolerance for me decreasing. Drastically. I breathe too loudly once, and he gives me the sharpest daggers a man ever has seen.”

  
“Hmm…” Jinki pretends to consider the facts, hardly concealing his amusement. “I seem to recall witnessing you, on multiple occasions, purposely doing things to try and rouse a response from him. What was it last time? Constant yawning?”

  
“I can’t control yawning!”

  
Jinki never used to be this sassy. This is all Kibum’s fault.

  
“How is your dance practice going?” Changing the subject, nice. “Can we expect a dazzling performance from the king and his physician before one drives the other into madness?”

  
Taemin huffs. He hadn’t expected Kibum to agree to learn the traditional mage dance Seohyun had forced upon him those months ago. Much less to perform it during the Peace Festival.

  
“Yeah, it’s alright. Dazzling is… a word.”

  
He isn’t in the mood to admit Kibum is a natural, nor the fact that too much longer training and he could surpass Taemin just like he did with dark magic. And most definitely, he doesn’t want to say aloud that training with Kibum is easy, that unlike their gentle bickering during the day they get along like two peas in a pod.

  
The royal adviser suddenly comes to a stop, and for a moment Taemin thinks he said something wrong. Instead, Jinki pokes his head into the doorway of a room.

  
“Have you been in here before?”

  
Taemin looks to the sign above the doorway, and frowns. “The Royal Garden? Obviously not.”

  
When the last war came to an end, the kingdoms separating and crowning their own rulers, a garden had been made within the castle by orders of the then king. The day he died, he requested that his ashes would be buried within it, with a single jade plant to grow from those ashes and the soil surrounding it. Since then, every ruler has been burned and buried in the garden. By now, it is filled with a wide array of plants. It’s a little uncomfortable, every time Taemin walks by the garden. People say it’s beautiful, but it just feels foreboding to him.

  
“Hyunmin is in there.” Jinki says softly, like a suggestion.

  
And then there’s that. The king pulls a face. “Yeah, no. I’m not interested.”

  
His friend looks somewhat disappointed, and Taemin doesn’t want to feel guilty but he suddenly does. Jinki smiles in the patient way he always does, and the unspoken expectation only makes him feel worse.

  
“I know… I was only mentioning it.” A pause, more polite than hesitant. “I know where your mother is too, if you’re ever curious…”

  
Jinki has a way of seeing more in people, beyond their limitations. It should be encouraging, but it’s more often discouraging. Because of that, Taemin can’t get the thought of the garden out of his head, even once they’re numerous corridors and staircases away from it. He doesn’t want to go into that glorified death chamber. Death isn’t roses and blossoms, it’s shit and darkness and then nothing. Nothing. Not even Jinki could convince him to visit the memories of Hyunmin, or his mother. They’re gone, and if Taemin didn’t care for them while alive he definitely doesn’t care now.

  
He’s got better things to do.

The festival arrives with the next setting of the sun. Taemin wakes early that day still in a bogged up mood, but it fades away with the growing excitement of the evening. It’s finally warm enough to step out onto his bedroom balcony, and when he does he can look out onto the festival lights dotted along the capital. There are countless lanterns of red, orange and yellow to shine onto the array of decorations people had set up outside their stores. Taemin leans onto the railing, straining his eyes to try and find the tavern hidden amongst the lower town. Hyoyeon had said she was going to join in the festivities, but he’s sure she’ll be setting up shop once the alcohol in the capitol’s centre is drained dry.

  
Despite his attempts to shake it off, the heavy feeling from last night lingers. A sort of hesitation, or a reluctance. Taemin doesn’t think that today will go terribly, but a part of him does wonder if it’ll go as splendidly as everybody hopes it will. Standing on his balcony, overlooking the capitol, he realises he’s both literally and metaphorically on edge. The Peace Festival is a time to celebrate what is nearing a decade of peace, the end of the last war.

  
There’s a wrongness to it—this peace. They aren’t entirely at peace, when the moment one steps into another kingdom they risk being imprisoned or killed. That isn’t peace. Taemin sighs. Mandae, the knight they sent away to deliver the letters, should be fine. And he should return soon. It’ll be fine. Taemin wills it to be. Even so, he wishes for a little of Jinki’s endless optimism.

  
He hears Minho enter his room, before he sees him. If it were Jinki there would’ve been a knock first, and if it were Kibum the click of the door would’ve been followed instantly by some kind of bold statement (or complaint, usually a complaint). Anyone else wouldn’t have let themselves in. So Taemin waits on the balcony, a chilled breeze drifting by. Further ahead, the mountain is visible yet so far away.

  
“There’s no point watching the festival from afar.” Minho’s voice finally sounds, the knight’s figure appearing in the corner of Taemin’s eye. He leans coolly against the railing, his back to the outside. Taemin decides to act just as indifferent, keeping his stare forward. “That’s what losers do.”

  
“And you would know, being a loser?” Taemin grins.

  
At this the knight just laughs, head throwing back and shoulders shaking. Taemin turns to look at him now, unable to let go of his own smile. He wants to say that the joke really wasn’t _that_ funny but gets distracted halfway. Observing Minho now, he notes the typical knightly uniform has been replaced with one more festive which boasts the crimson red, gold and black of their kingdom colours. It’s refreshing to see him in something different, even if still a symbol of his position.

  
“That’s an interesting look for his royal highness.” Minho says, making a pointed nod to his own attire.

  
Yes, Taemin is fully aware that his shirt is almost see-through. Yes, he left half the buttons undone on purpose.

  
“I have the performance later. It gets hot… Dancing.”

  
And yes, he does notice the second lingering glance Minho gives his chest.

  
The knight clears his throat. “Well, you should button it up for now. And, uh… Put on a jacket. It’s cold.”

  
“It’s cold?” Taemin frowns, tilting his head. “Then why do you look so flustered?”

  
“...” Minho averts his gaze and makes a move to head back inside. “It’s time for dinner.”

  
It’s Taemin’s turn to laugh, following after his royal knight and swinging on his cloak on the way. Not because Minho wanted him to cover up, but because it actually is still cold.

  
“Don’t want the nipples poking out, aye.” He says to Minho a few minutes later, and had they still been in the safe privacy of his room he knows the knight would’ve shoved him.

As per tradition, or whatever they knew of it after all these years, all of the capitol’s nobles are treated to a private dinner with the king in the throne room. What was once an oversized hall with one lousy chair is now filled with countless people seated at an arrangement of tables. They all rise as their king enters, Taemin does some boring speech to thank them for their contribution to the kingdom, and they all sit down to enjoy the food. Uptight nobles determined on sucking up to anyone who’s anyone is pretty low on Taemin’s list of favourite things. Food, on the other hand, pulls him through.

  
His table is shared with the small council, and Joohyun’s daughter. Eunbi, the small child, is educating Jinki of her theory about a secret and untouched island occupied entirely by dragons. Her mother seems to be quietly listening in, a light smile on her lips. Taemin wonders briefly if this obvious adoration is something all mothers feel for their children, or if Joohyun is just one in a million. Then he shakes off that thought, and notices Kibum is vulnerable and ready to be picked on. Suddenly, as if sensing the attention, the physician patiently places down his glass and turns to his king.

  
“I swear, if you do _any_ of the numerous, disastrous, things you’re thinking of right now I will trip you over during the performance and make it look like an accident.”

  
Once the food is finished with and the nobles are busy entertaining each other, Taemin and the others take the chance to move onto the rest of the festival. That includes, much to both his dread and delight, the performance. Sure, the positive reaction from the people upon the announcement of this special performance is encouraging. In the middle of the capitol’s centre is the fountain, great and overflowing, and the main piece for their dance. Taemin stands on the edge, with Kibum on the opposite side hidden behind the flowing water. Now, he realises, is the moment to become shit scared. No. This is fine. It doesn’t matter if he makes a mistake and embarrasses himself in front of the (almost) entire population of the capitol, ruining whatever reputation he’d managed to build these past few weeks. Not at all.

  
Taemin shuts his eyes and tries to take a subtle gulp of air. Magic is about the earth around him, below him, the nature that surrounds him. He can’t draw from it if he’s overwhelming himself with second thoughts. He wills it away. When his eyes open his mind is empty, and his soul is full. Lanterns of red, orange, and yellow float above him. Beyond that is the sky, a deep, navy blanket, covered in stars. Although there is a chill, he doesn’t feel the cold. The coal within him begins to heat up, sparking light, trickling down to his fingertips. Taemin may have been taught how to dance, but magic is his alone. If there’s anything he can do, it’s this.

  
Drums sound first, slow and heavy, sending a rush of anticipation into the crowd. The first bell chimes, and Taemin flicks his wrist to the sky, turns it over, and summons just a glimpse of a flame to his palm. He senses Kibum mirroring his every moment from the other side of the fountain, trusts in their time together being enough to get this right. A strum of a string, then more, and the music builds, and Taemin’s whole body responds, is carried by it. The first spell pours from his hands, then another, an array of fire and water and light and shadow. They leap and turn, forwards and backwards, along the edge of the fountain. Taemin doesn’t hear the gasps from the audience as lifts water into the sky and shatters it into ice.

_  
“When you cast a spell, it’s not just about the spell.” Naeun had explained once. “The same applies to dance. You cannot just move. You have to feel it, too.”_

_  
Taemin tried again, and again, but the more he repeated the routine the more he worried. The less connected he was to the dance._

_  
“Tell a story. As a runaway heir to a throne, I’m sure you have plenty.”_

_  
It still made no sense, but he tried again. What the music told him, and what he wanted to say back to it. There was so much he hadn’t told anyone. His childhood, the real reason he ran away. His loneliness in that cave, and the friend he’d craved but who’d left him time and time again. Again._

  
He leaps again, this time landing with the solid beat of a drum. He’s trapped by three dark, damp walls and a row of bars that refuse to budge. He’s surrounded by darkness, but whichever way he stumbles he will always hit a wall. It’s then he finds Kibum, and as they cross paths he lifts the other mage off his feet. They part again, but now there are no walls, they are free. Magic shoots from him, sparks into the sky, and he breathes in the air like he hasn’t tasted it for weeks.

  
He opens his arms, his magic, his heart, and the music swells over him like a gentle wave. It isn’t Taemin who’s dancing—not really. It’s nobody, it’s everybody. He doesn’t feel like himself, he forgets his title and his power. He’s carried away by the wave and taken elsewhere, nowhere. Somewhere strange yet familiar, distant yet close.

  
Then the music fades away, out, and over. Taemin finds himself in front of the fountain with Kibum now by his side, a large crowd applauding before them. They all look to him, and he forgets what a performer is meant to do when the music ends and they’re back in reality. Kibum tugs at his arm, and together they bend into a bow.

  
And that, is supposedly that.

Jinki is the first to congratulate the two mages, and as much as Taemin appreciates the former hunter’s compliments he can’t help watching the crowd. Not that he’s looking for anyone. No.

  
He’s not searching when he disappears amongst the people, and definitely isn’t disappointed every time it’s just a stranger who steps forward to praise his performance. Eventually, a flower crown is put on his head by some store owner he should probably know the name of but doesn’t. She hands him a second one, a weird curve to her smile, and he has no idea what’s going on. Apparently it’s what everybody’s wearing; flower crowns. This is news to him.

  
It’s a coincidence when he bumps into Minho, truly and honestly. The knight is standing with a few of his men, overseeing the safety of the festivities, looking very serious. Taemin approaches him with little warning, surprising the knight, and pulls him into the nearest alleyway. Away from the people, the lights, and the music that now invites everybody to dance. In a moment they’ve separated themselves from the world and its overly curious gaze. The alleyway’s only light comes from the festivities at the other end, and the pale moon that shines above them. It’s cold now, but he hardly feels it.

  
“Is something wrong?” Minho asks him, his eyes wide.

  
“Uh…” Rediscovering his normal self now, Taemin catches his breath. He wasn’t really thinking when he’d pulled the knight down here. He just wanted to, for some reason. “This…” he holds out the spare flower crown the woman had given him. “you should wear it. Everybody else is.”

  
Minho looks down at the crown, then back at him. “I’m on duty.”

  
The plain refusal bothers him. Taemin frowns. “What? Is your masculinity so fragile that you fear having some pretty flowers on your head?”

  
“No.”

  
“Did you know that you can be just as intimidating with flowers on your head, or even more so? You’re good enough at looking pissed off that you could be wearing old lady panties and a bra and still manage to scare off any villainous criminal.”

  
Minho laughs, and Taemin hears his own heart thudding. This is strange. He must still be feeling the adrenaline from the performance.

  
“Fine.” The knight concedes, clasping his hands behind his back. “If that is what my king wishes.”

  
Taemin grins. “It’s what he demands.”

  
Minho chuckles lightly, then bows his head just a little. Taemin falters for just a second, then places the crown that had been hanging on his harm atop of the knight’s head. When he looks up their gazes meet, Taemin clears his throat and takes a step back. Then Minho steps forward. He’d only been spouting bullshit before, but the knight really does maintain his demeanour with the flower crown on.

  
“Your highness,” the phrase, usually spoken when they’re in public, feels somehow intimate. “Because I did so well follow your orders, I’d like to recommend you go put your jacket back on.”

  
“I’m too hot.”

  
Minho snorts at this, for whatever reason, and reaches out to hold Taemin’s arm. Surely enough, the heat of the knight’s touch contrasts the growing chill he’d been getting since they’d ventured into this alleyway. Minho looks like he’s about to say something, probably to prove his own point, but there’s a sudden shout from the end of the alleyway. One of the knights stands there, waving his arm.

  
“Duty calls.” Minho sighs. “I’ll join you later, okay?”

  
And just like that the touch is gone, and Minho turns to leave the alleyway, head back into the festivities. Taemin just stands there, confused, and not wanting to admit to himself that he hated to watch the knight leave. The asshole hadn’t even commented on his performance. He probably wasn’t even watching, too busy with his serious knightly duties.

  
“Whatever.” Taemin mutters, only to himself.

He re-joins the celebrations and finds Jinki and Kibum, who’ve already started drinking. A small part of him wants to vomit at the sight of the couple getting along so well. Taemin decidedly drinks away the weird feelings from earlier, and when the vibe is at its peak he drags his friends into dancing. There he finds Hyoyeon, and he takes the bartender for a spin.

  
“That was some impressive magic you pulled out before!” She has to raise her voice over the music. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

  
“Neither did I.” he’s surprised by his own honesty.

  
“Well, it certainly did something—” Hyoyeon stops briefly as she turns on the spot. “Whoever wasn’t in love with you before will be now. You’ve got a real fan club now.”

  
Taemin grins. “Are you their leader?”

  
The bartender slaps his arm, earning her some bewildered looks from those surrounding them, before breaking apart and moving onto another partner. Taemin doesn’t bother keeping track of every person who spins into his arms, though at one point he does end up with a certain little mage. He isn’t the best at interacting with kids, but Eunbi is an exception. When she boldly states that he absolutely has to teach her how to dance like he had before, he stores the quote away to brag to Kibum later.

  
Taemin is good at drinking. He is a good drinker. He drinks good. That’s why when he starts feeling dizzy it’s simply because of all the dancing he’s been doing. He stumbles through the crowd, not quite sure what he’s looking for except maybe water would be a good idea, when an arm links with his. He’s not drunk, but it is easier to walk straight now.

  
“Come on, you can’t go embarrassing yourself in front of your civilians.” Jinki chides him, guiding the both of them in the direction of the castle.

  
“I’m not even drunk yet.” Taemin pouts, not caring if he looks childish. He’s the damn king.

  
His advisor chuckles. “Then we’ll have our own party in your room, how about that? It’ll be just like old times.”

  
“Okay.” Jinki is his advisor, after all. Taemin suddenly needs to praise him. “You’re such a good guy, Jinki. I think you might be the goodest in all three kingdoms.”

  
He realises the oddity in Jinki saying ‘old times’, as if he wasn’t referring to not much longer than seven months ago. Though in a way it does feel like a time very, very far away from now. They meet Kibum and Minho at the castle entrance, and head inside together. By the time they reach Taemin’s room he’s somewhat refreshed, and they all settle onto his dining table like the peaceful and organised people they are. It’s almost as if they’re starting a council meeting.

  
“Joohyun should join us!” he declares at the thought, and soon enough Kibum leaves to go get their fellow mage. 

  
There’s a warm glow of candlelight, a light chill drifting through his window, and they can faintly hear noises of the street celebrations. The bedroom is private, and so spacious that it doesn’t feel weird inviting four other people into it. Taemin gets out the hard liquor for Minho, because the knight has to play catch up and they are in no way letting him be the sane one tonight. He then takes out whatever else for everyone else, is sophisticated enough to provide glasses, and when the (hesitant and reserved) Joohyun arrives they’re ready to get wild.

  
“So….” Taemin raises his glass. “To ever lasting peace, happiness, rainbows and sunshine!”

  
They cheer, raise their glasses, and the rest of the night begins.

Time passes by in an array of drinking games and chatter. Minho, while claiming to be anything other than a lightweight, catches up to them very quickly for somebody who isn’t a lightweight. They don’t allow Jinki to join in charades, because last time he nearly cracked his skull open. Kibum and Joohyun are all of a sudden the best of friends, so he makes sure to tell her every embarrassing story he has of everybody else.

  
During one of these epic retellings, this time relating to Minho getting stuck in a stable, the female mage laughs. This isn’t to say that Joohyun never laughs, but usually it is a soft sound covered by the palm of her hand. No, this laughter is loud. Manic, almost. She leans into her chair, throws her head back, and holds onto Kibum’s arm for support.

  
Taemin is utterly bewildered by the sight of it.

  
“Did you...” he stares, and even the others at the table seem mildly surprised. “I didn’t know you were capable of... laughter...”

  
All of a sudden Joohyun straightens, laughter brought to a halt, her shoulders still, and when her expression drops he’s instantly filled with dread. Her first time drinking with them, and he’s completely ruined it. Way to go, Taemin. Kill the mood, Taemin. Never get invited to any more parties, Taemin.

  
Instead, perhaps more to his horror, her lips curve into a smile.

  
“Maybe,” Joohyun starts, “it’s because you’re not funny.”

  
What.

  
And now the whole table has erupted with laughter, at Taemin’s expense. He looks around, lost at what to do, Kibum wiping away tears and smacking the table.

  
“It’s true! You’re not funny!”

  
That asshole, overreacting just to poke fun.

  
“Fuck you, I’m funny!” Taemin stands up in defence, and this reaction only seems to encourage the hysterics more. “It’s not my fault Joohyun’s face always ranges from neutral to angry-neutral! Come on!”

  
“Of course, Taemin, you have a great sense of humour.” Jinki stops laughing, but it’s still there in his eyes. “As your advisor however, I recommend you sit down.”

  
The rest of the advice (something like— _before you embarrass yourself more_ ) hangs in the air, but it only makes Taemin want to step up and stand on his chair in protest. Reluctantly, he does as Jinki says. Fuck Jinki and his too-kind-to-resist face. Taemin wants to throw himself into a fireplace.

  
“I would like to defend myself,” Joohyun is still going, and takes a swing to finish her glass of wine. “and insist that rather than lacking emotional variety, such as your highness suggests, it’s more so that I am in great control of, and understanding of, all natural human emotions. Unlike, for example, your highness. How many more months are you going to spend deciding if you’re attracted to the person closest to you?”

  
Taemin’s jaw drops. Joohyun blinks at him, smiling innocently. A strange shadow creature must’ve taken possession of her body. They must go find the real Joohyun, before it’s too late.

  
“As much as I _love_ the direction this is taking,” Kibum pushes back his chair, standing. “I think I better escort this lovely lady back to her room.”

  
Joohyun looks at the physician, offended. “I don’t need escorting.”

  
“I know! But you do need somebody to talk shit with on the way, correct?”

  
She purses her lips in thought, then nods. The two of them make way to leave, Jinki following quietly behind them.

  
“Wait!” Joohyun stops immediately, alerting the men behind her. She then looks to Taemin and waves him over. Her king. She is the one demanding his presence.

  
Only because he’s a gentleman, does Taemin get up and meet her at the door.

  
“Yes?” he is patient, and a gentleman.

  
Joohyun, captain of the royal mages, sucks in a breath and takes both of Taemin’s hands in hers. She bites her lip, looking very dramatic, and looks him straight in the eyes. Yes, she is definitely possessed by something.

  
“In order to save the reputation of Tomorrow’s Joohyun, I must say at least this.” She pauses, releasing her breath. “While you are romantically stunted, and not very funny, I am honoured to have you as my king. Thank you for not being a corrupt bastard. Whatever you command, I will follow.”

  
Joohyun lets go, and steps back to bow. Taemin can’t find the words to respond with, and when he looks to Jinki and Kibum the two of them only smile. She bids him a good night, waves to Minho, and leaves the room. When it’s just him and Minho left, he’s still somewhat bewildered by the whole experience.

  
“That was...” he doesn’t know how to express any of what just happened.

  
“Fun?” Minho grins at him, now standing to lean against the table’s corner. “I can see it; you like her even more now that she’s insulted you.”

  
Taemin can’t really deny it. He groans and carries himself to his bed where he can collapse onto its great, big and comfortable mattress. “I was a little worried she just straight up hated me all this time, so yeah I guess so.”

  
He expects the knight to excuse himself out of the room and leave like everybody else, but instead he walks over and takes a seat on Taemin’s bed. They sit across from each other, both buzzing with alcohol but sober enough to form sentences. That’s always good. Minho is well-natured with his knights, and in no way a tight-ass, but they never get to see him like this. A content smile, a lazy stare, and a soft red in his cheeks, like he’s been smoothed over and removed of any worries. Taemin recalls Joohyun’s words from earlier, and then his brain reaches further back.

  
“Remember the old times, when we got drunk at your house?”

  
Minho nods. “Yes, that one old time. I do recall it.”

_  
Minho’s hand moved to lightly cup his cheek. Even after all those years, and all that happened in between, Taemin’s heart raced._

  
No, Taemin had felt that way that night because he was drunk. He’d also just revealed to everybody he was the heir to the throne, and after that night was going through a whole lot of shit. It was a very crazy time, so understandably he’d be feeling crazy things.

  
“Were you going to kiss me?” he blurts. “That night, when we were talking in your room?”

  
A beat of silence, and now he’s incredibly aware of the fact they’re sitting on his bed.

  
“I... Don’t know.” Minho replies, taken aback by the question.

  
Taemin pressures him, eager now to hear it. “Did you want to?”

  
The knight stops, longer this time, then looks away. In some effort to look casual, he shrugs. “I don’t... know... Why?”

  
“I don’t know.” Taemin echoes him and leans back onto his palms. “Just... What Joohyun said before was weird. And... Well... Obviously _you’re_ not attracted to _me_ so... Yeah... No...”

  
Fuck. That was not the right way to do it, whatever he’s currently trying to do. The two of them go silent, the only sign of movement in the whole room being the flicker of candlelight. It hangs between them, this unspoken thing, and Taemin isn’t scared of it but if there is something to admit he wants to hear it from Minho first. They can both put the blame on alcohol, clouded judgement and confused emotions, but the more time Taemin’s forced to think about it the less he can believe those excuses.

  
Because that night wasn’t the first moment, and it is in no way the last. Today alone, he’s felt it multiple times. The lingering on the balcony, and the closeness in the alleyway. Taemin doesn’t know what to name it. Or doesn’t want to.

  
He feels stupid. If Joohyun were here she’d be rolling over with laughter.

  
“I know.” Taemin sits up, determined now. “We can confirm it for ourselves, if there’s anything... Going on. And when Joohyun’s proved wrong we can go laugh at her wrong, hungover face.”

  
Minho blinks, being exceptionally quiet. “Okay.”

  
“Okay?” Taemin checks, earning a nod in response.

  
He’s the king. He just did an amazing dance in front of his entire kingdom. If he can do all the shit he’s done, he can manage this. Even so, Taemin catches himself breathing in a gulp of courage as he scoots towards Minho. The knight would make a fantastic statue, with the amount of moving he isn’t doing. He’d say the joke aloud, but he’s busy climbing into said knight’s lap. His thighs position either side of Minho’s hips, and he attempts to sit without putting too much weight on the other man. This is just weird. But pulling back now would be weirder. Who thought of this stupid fucking idea? Oh, right.

  
His arms hang somewhat pathetically by his side. He finally looks Minho in the eyes.

  
“So... Do you want to kiss me now?” Taemin is a whole fucking idiot, he’s aware.

  
Minho shakes his head, his expression unaffected by the unnatural position.

  
Taemin picks up his hands, placing one on the knight’s shoulder. He leans in closer, close enough to smell the alcohol on Minho’s breath. He watches for the other man’s reaction, waiting, listening.

  
“What about—”

  
He stops, as a hand lightly cups his cheek. Minho’s touch is hot, and it radiates against Taemin’s cheeks.

  
Minho speaks this time, his voice low. “Do you want to kiss me?”

  
It’s so gentle, like he’s a delicate thing that could break. And there’s another question in Minho’s eyes, one that he isn’t say aloud. That even after all these years, and all that’s happened between... No. Taemin isn’t delicate, he isn’t vulnerable. He is the king. He is the leader of this kingdom. His heart... From so close he can see all of the details across Minho’s face. The lightest of freckles on his temple, and the shadow beneath his eyes. It’s a lot. It’s too much.

  
“Nope.”

  
Taemin pulls back, not allowing himself to miss the warmth of Minho’s hand when he lets go. He then, as elegantly as possible, climbs off the knight’s lap and scoots back to a reasonable distance.

  
He grins. “I guess that solves it, then. There’s nothing to worry about here.”

  
A part of him is still waiting for Minho to say something, something else, something particular, but the knight just nods again. Oh, and there’s a smile too. A bit of a chuckle. Great. They’re chill. Minho gets off the bed, stands awkwardly by the side.

  
“I should go pass out; I took the morning shift.” Minho says, scratching his neck.

  
“Yeah. The moment my head hits one of these pillows I’m gone.”

  
“I thought you were already gone, when Joohyun dealt that severe blow.”

  
Taemin snorts, but they share a grin. “Shut up.”

  
He expects the knight to leave now, but he loiters around for another moment.

  
“Taemin, I...” Minho shifts weight between feet, looking to the side then decidedly at him. “I didn’t get to tell you. Your performance... That dance you did. I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that before. It was... Like magic. I know— it was literally magic but you... You were the embodiment of it. You looked cool.”

  
Cool. Taemin’s heart isn’t racing.

  
“You should’ve said that a minute ago, Romeo.” He grins. “I would’ve fallen head over heels.”

  
Minho scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

  
The night comes to an end. Finally alone, Taemin’s head drops onto his pillow with the weight of a boulder. Despite his exhaustion, and the sluggish pull of alcohol, sleep doesn’t come to him right away. No matter how many times he wills himself to think of the festival, the flower crowns, the weather, _anything_ , his mind always lures him back to one thing. One person. Winter is over, Spring has come, it isn’t freezing at night anymore. Still, he can’t help noticing how cold, empty, his king sized bed is. If he had replied differently, would he be laying alone like this now? Fuck, no. Sleep. He begs his brain to let him rest.

  
And, after some time, he’s freed from his thoughts and can finally sleep.

“Your highness... King Taemin... Hello...”  


Morning greets him with a killer headache, the dreadful sensation of all blood to the brain being replaced by alcohol then drained back to absolutely nothing, and apparently also the sight of his dear servant waving above his face.  


“Hello? Are you awake?” Seungwan calls softly from beside the bed. “I’m sorry your highness, I know you didn’t want to be woke up. But it’s... Urgent, sir.”  


Pure willpower drags his body out of bed, goes through the extreme effort of changing clothes, chugging the water Seungwan left out for him, and heading out the door. He doesn’t want to know what time it is. Jinki meets him in the corridor and judging by the advisor’s pensive expression there isn’t much time for cracking a joke.  


“A messenger has arrived, claiming to be sent by Kyein.” Jinki explains as they walk, heading straight for the throne room.  


Shit.  


“No sign of Mandae?”  


“Apparently not.”  


They share an apprehensive glance. It takes little time to reach the throne room, all tables from the prior night’s dinner already cleared away. Minho, Kibum, and Joohyun are already inside, standing by the throne. Taemin feels a pinch of annoyance that he’s the clearly the last to find out about this, but there’s no time to dwell. He takes his place on the throne, now too conscious of the size of it, and waits.  


A pair of knights bring in the messenger, restraining his arms as they approach the throne. They stop some metres away. Taemin tries in vain to recognise the man presented before him, but he looks just like any young male who has no idea what he’s doing. It’s not as if he met many people while imprisoned, anyway. He notes, as well, the extra knight carrying a chest. The knight’s expression seems strained.  


He has to focus.  


“Let’s start with the basics.” Taemin feels the presence of his friends surrounding him. “Who are you, why are you here, and what is it you have to say?”  


The messenger steps forward, small and hesitant, and slowly looks to meet the unmoving eyes of this strange king. “My name is... S-Sungyeol and I... I am delivering a message from King Kyein.”  


There’s a stretch of silence.  


“And...?” Taemin, with his nerves, is getting impatient.  


“O-Oh! First I was told to give you this gift, sir—uh, sir?” Sungyeol gestures with his head to the chest in the third knight’s hands. “And then there is a letter in my pocket, which I can retrieve when your knights let go of me.”  


Taemin raises a brow at the suggestion, then turns his focus to this mysterious box. He waves the third knight over and stands to retrieve the chest, struggling to control his face when he’s hit by an unexpected, rancid smell. It’s heavy, too. Minho appears by his side, murmuring for his ears only.  


“Maybe I should open it.” he says, “We don’t know what’s inside.”  


“It’s fine, Minho. I can open a fancy box by myself.” He brushes the knight’s concern off, already flicking the latches.  


Approximately six hours ago, Taemin’s main concern was whether or not he has the hots for his childhood friend. Shortly before that, in the safe and private abode of his room he’d been with his friends, celebrating a successful evening of festivities. The Peace Festival. Dancing, cheering, drinking, laughing. Those sweet, blissful hours of forgetting the reality of the world they live in. The horrors of people. What they’ll commit, if given the power. If refused it.  


Taemin opens the chest, pulls the lid up, peers inside, then drops it.  


The chest drops to the floor with an echoing thud, hitting the edge and clanking onto the step before Taemin. The smell is hideous now, the source of it tumbling out of the chest. Staining the floor. Taemin instantly feels ill, barely concealing it.  


Outside of the chest, lays a head. A single, detached head.  


A face Taemin recognises.  


Mandae.  


“GUARDS! INSIDE IMMEDIATELY!”  


Minho’s voice bellows through the throne room, shaking with anger, shaking Taemin from his horror. He turns to his small council members, his friends, and sees their shared horror, shock, disgust. Guards burst through the doors, storming to their king’s aid. When he faces the messenger again the man has been circled by knights and mages, their swords drawn and ready to attack. Sungyeol appears just as shocked by the sight in front of him, having stumbled to the ground, eyes as wide as saucers. A darkness swoops over the throne room. Taemin wills himself to remain calm.  


“You said there’s a letter?” the steadiness of his voice shocks even himself.  


Sungyeol moves to his knees, begging. “Please, sir! I didn’t know! King Kyein ordered me never to look! I didn’t know!”  


Taemin doesn’t budge. “The letter, please.”  


Minho takes the letter himself, directly from the messenger’s vest pocket. He bows his head as he presents it to Taemin, and their fingers brush. There now, gone a moment later. Taemin rips off Kyein’s seal and unfolds the parchment.  
  


_Taemin,_   
  


_Your offer to meet was cute, I will give you that.  
_

_I’m sure you know of the story of how our kingdoms came to be. What was once a whole kingdom, was divided into three for three sons. Peacefully they did live at first, but men are not naturally made to share.  
_

_The bloodline of the true king, the one king, has been nearly lost. My kingdom, and myself, remains to be the only one left. I intend to practice my right as the last bloodline of the true king and claim the land that should be mine. If I do not, I fear the impurity and idiocy of the current other rulers will run us all into ruin.  
_

_You must understand. I am doing this for the greater good, as is my duty as the true king’s heir. Hand your kingdom to me, and I will save you all.  
_

_If you refuse, I will kill every single person needed until your people surrender to me. I will start with your friends, killing them slowly just like I should’ve with that filthy mage. You will hear their screams, and their choking when I cut off their tongues. I will force you to watch it all. As I take your lover to bed and kill them. Remove their head, just as I removed that one. If that isn’t enough to move you, my people will come in and take whatever it is they please until you surrender. They will take the women, the children, set ablaze to everything in their path.  
_

_Understand, Taemin, that you cannot defeat me. My people have been preparing for this since your fool of an uncle was king, then your pathetic excuse for a father, and now you. We are stronger in ways you cannot imagine.  
_

_If you wish to fight, I would love to meet you out on the field.  
_

Taemin reads the letter, the words not feeling real. But the thing on the floor is proof. He stops, knowing there are concerned, fearful, eyes on him. He shuts his own, and breathes. One, two, and three. A feeling settles within him that he’s faintly aware will never leave him, not for years.  


Again, he reads those words, this time aloud for all to hear. Each one strikes him, harder, sharper, until he’s not sure what’s keeping him standing.  


“He says...” Taemin reaches the end of the letter, his voice hollow. “He’ll give us a month to decide.”  


“Decide...” Kibum begins.  


“If we’ll go to war.” Jinki adds. “Or stay here and die.”  


Peace is far away, beyond the horizon, out of their reach. It was never here, not even close, for what they’d been staring at all this time was but a dream. The sky is clear now. The rolling hills have already turned red.  


Taemin looks to the floor, anger rising and burning harshly, his fingertips hot.  


“We’re going to war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!! a lot happened in this one aye!! please let me know if you like the longer length of a chapter, even if it means having to wait longer. thanks for reading xoxo


	4. The Promise

She was sixteen years old when the king summoned her to the capitol, to the great castle she’d heard so much about but had yet to see with her own eyes. The first feeling was excitement. Then she looked back at her simple village home, with its flourishing garden and vibrant campsis crawling up the walls, and her heart had ached. As a child she’d spent endless hours amongst the flowers, counting the petals and collecting ladybirds, because there hadn’t been anywhere else for her to go.

Seulgi was special, her father had told her more than once, and there was only one other person in the kingdom like her.

Her mother, the kingdom’s royal mage, spent endless days away from home. She had a duty to ensure that any child showing signs of magic ability would be cured. Seulgi couldn’t understand why her own magic wasn’t being taken away, until the day she turned sixteen.

“King Kyein wants to ensure you’re being... Prepared properly.” Her mother smiled through the carriage window, as if there weren’t tears lingering beneath her lashes.

“If anyone should prepare me, it’s you.” Seulgi wanted to pull back when her mother reached for her hand, but something stopped her. “What does the king know about magic?”

Her father, who’d usually chuckle at her attitude, suddenly looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “Trust in our king, Seulgi. He is wise, and kind.”

“And you will be fine.” Her mother completed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Something caught in her throat.

“I’ll write to you.”

It was all she could say before the carriage started moving, rocking over the gravel, her parents’ faint smiles fading gradually into the distance. The young mage watched them for as long as she possibly could, when the carriage took a sharp turn and she was tossed properly into the cabin. Seulgi released a sigh, her gaze dropped to her hands. Before, being home schooled by her father, she’d thought she was the loneliest someone could ever be. Her hands curled into fists, and she directed herself to look out the window. _King Kyein is wise, and he is kind_. The capitol held only good things.

The capitol was bigger than she could’ve possibly imagined. The castle, too, great and awfully cold looking. Seulgi was guided through its halls, trying not to look too dumbstruck by the whole ordeal, and lead out into the castle courtyard. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, in all honesty, but the wooden shack in the corner of the garden felt like a joke. A servant girl, who she would soon remember the name of to be Bora, told her that was wear she’d be residing.

It was small, but it did have the essentials she needed to get by. Weeks passed. Seulgi stayed in the shack, and Bora would visit every day to give her lessons.

“What does the King actually want me to do here?” She found the courage to inquire, if only because she was bored and frustrated. “Tell me the truth.”

Bora looked up from her book mid-sentence, eyes wide. The servant was older than Seulgi, her features more mature yet delicate at the same time. She was pretty, as if pretty was enough to describe her. Seulgi had realised quickly that it was a lot easier to just stare at the servant than try to listen to whatever it was she was teaching.

“You’re learning the essentials, just like any other kid your age.” Bora explained patiently. “You’re going to become a member of the court soon; you should at least have _some_ wit about you.”

Seulgi snorted at the half-serious remark, the humour not entirely reaching her. “When? I’ve been forced into social recluse here— I can’t even go outside?”

“You’re one of two mages in this kingdom. People don’t know you yet, but soon enough everybody will, and they will fear you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” Bora’s stare turned cautious. “The royal mage is the person who siphon’s magic from any child born with it, and to keep one’s magic hidden is punishable with death. The royal mage... can do all that, and... If they ever desire, they’re powerful enough to bring ruin to the entire kingdom.”

The realisation dawned on her, then, that she wasn’t here to be blessed with the wisdom nor the kindness of the king, given some kind of great lesson to become an amazing royal mage. She hadn’t even seen him yet, and she probably wouldn’t for some time. No, Seulgi was here so they could make sure she was safe. That she wasn’t a threat to the people.

She dared meet the servant in the eye. “But you... You’re not scared of me?”

Bora smiled, and shook her head.

“The most danger you’ve posed so far, is your inattention to these history lessons.”

Summer faded into autumn, and for a while it felt like the only change was with the leaves turning orange. Seulgi laid on her bed one night, a letter from her parents resting on her stomach, her stare directed at the roof. Any wonder she’d felt for the castle had dissipated, and the letter had only reminded her of how alone she was. She thought of the garden, her family’s garden, and how the campsis must’ve lost all their flowers by now. The orange petals scattered across the grass. If she breathed in deep enough, she could almost catch the scent of her father’s cooking through the kitchen window.

Footsteps sounded from outside her door.

Seulgi sat up immediately. It was too late for Bora to visit—their lessons had ended hours ago. Unless she’d forgotten something? The mage waited anxiously, watching her door knob turn slowly, hauntingly, until the door itself began to creek open. Her breathing stilled, hand reaching for the closest object she could grab without looking away.

“Hello...” the strange voice was followed by a head, slowly peaking around the door.

Seulgi blinked. It was a boy.

“Hey!” the boy repeated, his expression shifting to excitement in a matter of seconds. He then proceeded to let himself inside, shutting the door behind him.

Seulgi blinked. Again.

“What? Can’t talk?” the boy strolled across the tiny space of her shack, stopping to look through the things on her desk. “That’s alright, we all have our weaknesses.”

She shook off the shock, letter falling to the floor as she stood to her feet.

“Who are you?” the mage tried to sound as threatening as possible, but the boy looked unaffected. “Why are you here?”

“I’m Jongin, and I’m curious.” The boy, Jongin, glanced at her hand. “Do you use that pencil to conjure your magic?”

The pencil in her hand had been the thing she’d reached for, apparently. Seulgi faltered, totally unaware of how to respond to the current situation. Jongin stepped forward, plucked the pencil from her grasp, and inspected it with squinted eyes.

“No...” her response was delayed. “My magic comes from the Earth, it’s within me.” 

“Oh. Cool.” Jongin dropped the pencil on the desk, and started moving back to the door. “Wanna come outside with me?”

“What?”

“Outside.” He titled his head. “Wanna come?”

Seulgi knew it wasn’t allowed for her to go outside, but something about the boy’s ease made her feel like it was the only right thing to do in that moment. She nodded numbly and went with the stranger through her door, out into the world. Night had well and truly fallen by then, only the stars to light their way, only faint sounds of nature to disrupt the stillness. Jongin lead her down an unbeaten path, beyond the garden and then further away from what she assumed had been the castle border. He asked her questions as they walked, his voice soft and secretive, about her magic and her village. Seulgi found herself answering, though a part of her was still uncertain.

“Where are we going?” she tried asking.

Jongin shrugged. “Have you never just walked around for the hell of it?”

She stared at him, having only told him a minute ago she hadn’t left the shack since she arrived. The smirk playing on his lips gave him away.

“Funny.” Her reply was dry. “Why are you taking the prisoner out for a walk, then?”

The term had slipped from her before she’d thought it, but it didn’t feel inaccurate. Not to mention, it made Jongin laugh. They entered the woods then, and she didn’t dare look back to see how far they’d ventured.

“Because my father told me not to.” Jongin said, simply. “He likes controlling everybody I spend time with, but he was _very_ stern about not approaching _the mage_.”

“Oh.”

There was even less light in the woods, and though Seulgi tried to concentrate on her feet she still managed to trip over a tree root. She stumbled to keep her balance but regained her it without complete falling on her face. She looked up at Jongin then, uncertain, and was met by a smirk.

“You can imagine my disappointment, you’re just as lame as the rest of us.”

While it had occurred to her on more than one occasion that she had no idea what she was doing outside, with a boy, with somebody the same age as her for what felt like the first time ever, Seulgi began feeling less quietly concerned and more thrilled. The trees towered over them, shielding them from the sky and the rest of the world. Nobody would see them wondering through the woods, nor hear the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves.

Until there was a thud behind them.

Seulgi spun at the noise, and at first saw nothing. Then she saw it.

“It’s... I-t’s a bear.” She was frozen on the spot, watching the creature she’d only seen in drawings straighten onto its hind legs. “J-Jongin...”

“Calm down, it’s just a baby.” Jongin stepped forward, a protective arm shielding her while the other hand holds a rock. “And a shadow.”

She hadn’t noticed in the dark, but after a second glance she noticed the wicked blackness of the creature’s fur. The way it dripped and stained the ground. The shadow bear stalked towards them, taking gradual yet purposeful steps. It wasn’t Seulgi’s first time facing a shadow creature, but she’d always had a parent nearby to protect her. She willed her mind to clear, rid of the impending fear, and took another look at Jongin’s weapon of choice.

“A rock?!” Her eyes went wide. “You’re going to kill a shadow creature with a _rock_?”

“Shut up!” Jongin snapped, his voice shaking. “Unless you have any better ideas!”

He threw the rock, obviously with as much strength as he could summon, and despite the shadow bear’s smaller size it was as effective as a pebble would’ve been. The bear stopped, shook its head, and continued towards them. Something within Seulgi stirred, and she had no choice but to act on impulse as she pulled Jongin back by the collar and took his place in front. She’d never used her magic offensively before, though her mother had told her about it. Her feet were firm on the ground, hands held out straight, aiming at the shadow bear. _Ice_. The magic ran through her, a breath, and arrows of ice shot from her palms. Into the bear. It let out a gargled growl, then fell to the ground with one final thud.

Seulgi watched it, waiting, the darkness melting from the shadow’s bones. The bones stay there only a moment later, and then there was nothing left. She sighed.

“Holy shit.” Jongin startled her from her trance, giving her a pat on the back. “That was cool.”

“Cool?” she blinked slowly, exhaustion overcoming her.

Her mother had told her once, how the Earth blessed humans with magic. The fact that with so many people in their kingdom rejecting the Earth’s gift, the Earth therefore had less to give. Like a protest, that fell on deaf ears.

Seulgi had thought being one of two mages would bless her with unlimited magic. One spell, her first real offensive spell, and she was already feeling the limits.

“It’s a compliment. And a pun. You’re welcome.” Jongin swung the arm around her shoulders and walked them back the way they came. “You look like shit though, so let’s head back before we get eaten by the mother.”

Shadow creatures didn’t have parents. She didn’t have the energy to correct him.

She was friends with Jongin for approximately three weeks before he told her the father he’d been disobeying was, in fact, the King Kyein. He asked her if that was a problem, once he’d noticed her appalled expression, but Seulgi couldn’t just stop being friends with him. Even if it was foolish. Because Jongin was her only friend.

She was eighteen years old when the king summoned her mother to the capitol. Seulgi had leapt to her feet when Bora informed her, hardly able contain her excitement. Her parents had only visited a few times over the previous two years she’d spent at the castle, and none of those were for long stays. Now, they were to have dinner with the king and queen themselves. So much time had passed yet Seulgi hadn’t met the royal parents of her best friend. She was so nervous she couldn’t pay any attention to the dress Bora had bought for her, although the servant was making a big deal out of it.

Bora escorted her into the depths of the castle, through corridors she hadn’t seen since the first day she’d arrived. Then they were going down, the lighting became dimmer and the air felt colder. Had her mind been clear, it would’ve seemed strange that the royals would want to dine in such damp and miserable walls. However, she was too caught up in the thought of seeing her mother. What she would say, or ask. She was eighteen now, she had so many questions and no idea where to start.

They stopped at a door, and Bora gestured for her to go inside. Seulgi sent the servant a small smile, because she’d never thanked her for all those lessons, and stepped into the room.

What she was expecting, she knew would at least be a dining hall of some sort with a table. Instead, it was a small and dimly lit room. Sitting on a chair, alone, was her mother.

“Mum...?” Seulgi began, but the woman had already stood to pull her into an embrace.

“Oh, sweetie. My Seulgi. It’s been too long.” Her mother pulled back to hold her cheeks, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and grinned. “And look at you. You look so beautiful.”

Seulgi frowned and noted her silk dress her mother was referring to. It was orange, and fit like a glove. It felt wrong.

“Mum.” She tried again. “What’s going on? Where’s the king and queen? What is this place?”

Her mother stepped back then; her expression etched with gentle concern. There was nothing of note in the room, sparing an empty desk with some candles, and the air in it felt uncomfortable somehow.

“This room... Is the royal mage’s study.” Her mother explained. “Typically, I would go to visit people whose children needing... Curing. Sometimes though, they’d come to me. So, this is where I’d perform the magic.”

A question she’d had prepared months ago pricked at her tongue. “Wait! When you say curing, is it really—”

“Seulgi.” Her mother warned suddenly. “You’re eighteen now, and you’ve become a wonderful adult. This means you’re ready to begin your task as the royal mage.”

“But—”

“You must understand, Seulgi. This what you were born to do. For us, for this kingdom, you must fulfil your duty.” The words stung, for a reason she didn’t yet understand. “Your first task—Seulgi listen to me—is to become the _only_ royal mage.”

Her heart broke. Seulgi shook her head, took a step back, prepared to run away and pretend the conversation had never happened.

“What do you mean? No! No... I-I can’t possibly...”

Her mother moved in again, and gripped onto her shoulders. There was a desperation in her eyes Seulgi had never seen before, sending shivers down her spine, causing tears to spill down her cheeks.

“Sweetie, my sweet Seulgi, listen.” Her mother ran a hand through her hair, like she was still a child after all. “You are the royal mage now, whether you want to be or not. If you don’t siphon my magic from me, I’ll be an illegal mage. I’ll face the ultimate punishment.”

She wanted to demand answers. Why would Kyein punish the mage who’d been working so hard for him for so many years? Why could there only be one? Why was she the one who had to do it? But she was too overwhelmed, and her mother didn’t let her ask, so she was left standing hopeless and heartbroken.

“You said... magic is a part of us. It makes us special, makes us who we are.” Seulgi held her hand to her chest, the way her mother had when she’d spoken those words. “We should hide it, or reject it, or ever let go of it. Our magic...”

“I’ll be fine, Seulgi.” The woman dropped her hands from Seulgi’s shoulders, her tone remaining even. “My magic will be safe with you. I trust you. I believe in you.”

Seulgi sniffled, her resolve weakened. “I don’t know... How to do it...”

Her mother straightened, prepared. “It’s easy. Look for it, not with your eyes. Feel it, hold onto it, and pull. There’ll be some resistance because I’m an adult, but you mustn’t stop. Once you start, you are not allowed to stop. No matter what.”

A sob escaped Seulgi as she nodded, closing her eyes. She did as her mother instructed, reaching out with her magic and instantly feeling the warm glow of her mother’s. She held onto it.

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t stop, Seulgi.”

She tugged, and heard whimpers coming from her mother. She couldn’t stop. Seulgi pulled as hard as she could, causing her mother to scream in agony. The sound of it is awful, high-pitched and riddled with the worst kind of pain, and Seulgi couldn’t stop crying because she was the one hurting her mother. Pulling out her magic, every last thread, her mother trying to be reassuring (“it’s okay, it’s okay”) until the warmth turned stone cold. Seulgi sensed her mother’s magic as it sunk inside her, but it didn’t feel like it should.

“M-Mum...?” it took all the strength she had to open her eyes, to see her mother crumpled on the floor.

“It’s... Okay.”

It was the last thing her mother said before she fainted at Seulgi’s feet. A mage without her magic. A mother without her daughter.

Queen Jihyun watched from the doorway, then invited her to finally join them for dinner. Seulgi had looked at the woman then, and where she expected anger or fear she felt only a great, gaping hole of sadness.

King Kyein, and Queen Jihyun, were not what Seulgi had hoped. That was saying a lot, considering she’d mistrusted them from the moment she was thrown into that shack with little explanation. Even so, they were worse. The king and queen at their food, drank their wine, and conversed with easy smiles. They were celebrating the official becoming of their newest royal mage, as she mourned the destruction of her own mother.

Destruction—that’s what the royals would accomplish whenever a threat was in their path. They had their precious royal mage, but only one, and they’d assured Seulgi was prepared properly for the role. Let her stay with her parents just long enough to love them, then took her away early enough that she’d learn to behave under their rules. Her mother had said that if she kept her magic, she’d be killed. That was the threat that hung above Seulgi, should she ever stray from her role. A puppet. A chess piece in their game. She had no choice, not a single choice, not once since the day she was born.

“Please, help yourself to the skewers.” King Kyein had said, smiling.

She tried to tell them she wasn’t hungry, but the words refused to leave her.

“Eat.” Queen Jihyun insisted.

So, she ate.

The next morning Bora visited her with news that her mother would be returning to their village. Seulgi could see her before she left, or go in the opposite direction to take on her first request as the royal mage. And after what happened, she knew it was unfair, but she couldn’t look at Bora the same.

She didn’t have the courage to say goodbye.

Seulgi believed that fulfilling her duty would be easy. They were only children, but they were too young to understand the magic that ran through them. Surely, Seulgi would insist to herself, it was not a cruel thing she was doing to those children. Every time she received a request she would travel across the kingdom, to wherever she needed to be, and perform the simple siphoning spell. No child ever felt pain, not a whimper or a whine. It was like she was doing nothing, almost.

“You’re cured now.” She’d say to the child.

“Thank you.” The child’s parents would sigh in relief.

Then Seulgi would return to the capitol, the castle, having saved the kingdom from another potential mage. She’d look at her hands, feel the magic stirring within her, and tuck them into her pockets as if the air around her was too cold.

She was twenty years old when rumours began to spread about Kyein having a secret weapon. After pestering Jongin about it enough times, they waited for the quiet of the night (as if they were sixteen all over again) and the prince took her to the hidden training room, deep within the castle. He unlocked a cabinet and revealed one of the many identical weapons lined inside. The weapon was long, like a sword, but it was more rounded in shape and did not have a blade.

“It’s called... a gun.” Jongin introduced cautiously, holding it out. He then turned back to the cabinet, and in his hand was a small cylinder object. No bigger than a pebble, smaller even than his palm. “This is a bullet.”

Seulgi didn’t understand how the two objects worked together, until he slot the tiny bullet inside and held up the gun. The prince had taught her how to handle a sword, how to fight and defend herself without what little magic she knew. A sword was held upright, but this weapon was held sideways. Jongin stared at the practice dummy at the other end of the room, and all it took was the subtle movement of a finger. A sudden and loud bang sounded through the air, making Seulgi jump.

Jongin pointed ahead, towards the dummy. If she squinted, she could see a hole ripped through the stomach. The mage couldn’t believe it, how instant the attack was. How effortless.

“How... How did Kyein manage to discover something like this?”

“He didn’t.” Jongin relaxed, then shut the wild weapon back into the cabinet. “The first gun was designed by a man while my grandfather was on the throne. People have been developing it since.”

Seulgi frowned. “But what for? How much of the kingdom’s money has gone towards making these... things?”

The prince looked to the ground. Despite being a man now, he looked more uncertain than he did as a teenager.

“I think... Sometimes it’s the people with the most power that will never be satisfied.”

And she knew, already, that Kyein would do anything to maintain that power.

The arrival of two travellers from another kingdom was entirely unexpected, and there had been no explanation given before Jihyun ordered Seulgi to interrogate them. All she knew was that she had to check they weren’t mages, and if they were then she had to siphon them of their magic before they could threaten the kingdom. She thought she could do it. She could handle it. She had no choice otherwise.

Check for magic. Siphon any magic. Question them about their kingdom.

The first traveller was brought to her, to the room she’d stolen her mother’s magic. Where she’d taken away the magic of so many children since. Too many emotions swelled within her, so she closed her eyes and shut them off like blowing out a flame. Dark, empty, safe.

It was a shame Kibum was a mage.

It was a shame, also, that the magic she forced from him was riddled with agony. She’d never thought someone’s magic could feel so sad, and as it seeped from his being and towards Seulgi she was overwhelmed by it all. Instead of letting it go, unbeknownst to him she hid his magic in her bracelet. There was no reason for it, not that she was willing to divulge in. Reminding herself of her mother’s pain would be too much.

“You always have a choice.” He’d said, despite looking so broken.

If only he knew.

“Not always... Not here.”

Keeping Kibum’s magic hanging from her wrist took its toll. Siphoning was always exhausting, but she’d always let the magic go back to the Earth once she’d taken it. This one she kept with her, and the weight of it couldn’t be escaped even as she slept. Nightmares followed her into her subconscious, memories that weren’t her own, but she felt every stab of heartache like it was.

Seulgi knew Kyein was hurting Kibum, the mage who’d already lost an incredible part of himself. One night, when she couldn’t sleep, she snuck into the dungeons and spelled the guard unconscious. There, unseen by the two prisoners, she listened as they talked about the kingdom where magic was as common an accepted as being left handed. That such a place existed, she couldn’t believe until she saw it for herself.

“We can’t just go and break them out, Seulgi.” Jongin crossed his arms where he stood, in the centre of his bedroom. “I believe you that they’re good, but...”

“I’m not saying we have to break them out.” She was determined then, the emotion almost foreign but feeling so natural in the moment. “Let’s just help them.”

The prince still looked hesitant. She wanted to hit him until the carefree, rebellious best friend came back.

“Jongin, listen.” Seulgi was shorter than him, but that wouldn’t stop her. He was going to feel her courage and agree with her plan, damn it. “This kid, Taemin, is a prince just like you. With a cruel, corrupt father sitting on the throne. But he’s willing to go back to his kingdom and _kill_ his father, for the sake of his people. He’ll be able to save them if we just give him the right advice to get out of here.”

“If we do this...” Jongin stared at her for a minute, then smiled. “You’re not planning on leaving me for this strange prince, are you?”

She punched his arm, and took his laughter as a yes.

Returning Kibum’s magic to him didn’t release her of the guilt. Healing his wounds didn’t change what had happened, and what she’d knowingly let happen. Despite only joking with Jongin, there was a part of her that desired to go with the mages to their kingdom. To feel the Earth that was brimming with magic, not neglected and starving. Most of all, she wanted to make up for all the suffering she’d caused her people. She wouldn’t be able to do that in another kingdom, however.

So, she watched as Taemin won the duel against the great, wise King Kyein. And she watched as they left, to likely never cross paths again. 

Until the day Kyein declared war. 

As always, like every time Kyein or Jihyun declared something terrible, Seulgi bit her tongue. She held it all in, kept it buried under her neutral stare, and only once she was in the privacy of her shack did she explode. Jongin had followed her, the concerned best friend. The best friend who was also the son of those wretched people.

“Fuck.” The prince cursed, closing her door behind him.

Seulgi wanted to scream. “War?! We’re going to war?!” she turned to her best friend, her eyes burning. “For what?! So he can show off his guns? Like it’s a fucking game?”

“He says it’s his birthright... to rule all three kingdoms...” Jongin shook his head. “I never thought...”

“You never thought what?” she didn’t mean to take her anger out on him, but it spilled from her anyway. “You _know_ what your parents are like. You _know_ what they’ve done to you, to me, to the whole kingdom!”

“I know, I do! I just... it’s _war_.” With each second that passed, the more real it was becoming. Like it was slowly growing, casting a looming shadow over them all. “This is fucked.”

“We have to stop him.”

Jongin stared. He knew what she meant. And then, he looked guilty.

“I can’t do that, Seulgi.” His shoulders sagged, and he leaned against the door. “I can’t. I hate him, everything he stands for, but I can’t kill my own father.”

There it was. Jongin, and his damned humanity. Despite everything there was still the Jongin who was raised by his parents with love, and treated like the precious prince he was. In the end, they were his parents before they were the headstrong rulers who dealt blows against anyone they deemed below them.

“I’ll do it.” She decided, hands curled into fists. “I can do it.”

Jongin’s expression shifted to shock, eyes wide. “Seulgi...”

“Let me do it.” The mage insisted.

And then he deflated again. “I... can’t. Seulgi... Please, promise you won’t do it.” 

“Jongin—”

“ _Please._ ” He looked to her, really looked, and she saw his desperation. She felt it. “Promise me. We can figure out another way.”

“I...”

He was her best friend. He was her only friend. Seulgi would feel no guilt killing Kyein and Jihyun if it meant the peace of both kingdoms, but she didn’t think she could handle betraying Jongin. All those years he’d stood by her, no matter what the weather or how she snapped at him or when she had those days she’d shut down and disassociate and become nothing but a puppet. The boy she’d protected with her magic. The man she’d continue to protect. That included his heart, too.

On the other hand, was a kingdom full of people who feared her, disregarded her, only ever spared her a shred of respect if she had Jongin by her side. And another kingdom, where they embraced magic and mages could be free, but was full of people who meant nothing to her. It was a dream. It was unobtainable, out of her reach, no matter which choice she made.

Choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! this probably wasn't the chapter you were expecting, especially after such a long wait. the most i can say is: life happens. i hope you did enjoy the chapter, and if not i understand! but seulgi is an important character, and i wanted to give more insight to king kyein and his wife, queen jihyun. we already hate kyein after wdr (poor kibum), but i just felt like we could do with some more reasons!


	5. Burden to Bear

In the privacy of the small council room, five figures sit at the table. Each one as bewildered as the other, confused and shaken by what they’d witnessed only minutes ago. Taemin’s there, and not there, as if the news had torn him from himself and left only a shell. He’s panicked. He’s angry. He wants to know what to do.

“We could stay here, protect our kingdom.” Jinki begins, his warm voice still carrying hope. “We have the magic to hold them off.”

Joohyun shakes her head. “If he’s this determined... No number of mages will be able to defend the entire kingdom. Magic isn’t limitless.”

“Then we’ll have to go fight.” Minho determines, crossing his arms. “Meet him where he wants us. There are too many villages between here and the border to risk fighting from the capitol.”

Before being taken to the cells, Kyein’s messenger had provided them with a location. The boy had no idea what it meant, as frightened as the rest of them, only that he needed to show it to them. Taemin recognised the area on the map as somewhere he and Kibum rode through on their return from the kingdom. And now, they’re meant to fight for their lives there. Not just their lives, but the entire kingdom. The weight of it all only increases with every passing minute, the more real it becomes. War is so simple a word, compared to the reality it entails. The devastation it’s sure to bring.

“If we’re to do this while abiding by the law, and we go into Kyein’s land...” Kibum frowns, the physician still haunted by the last time they’d ventured beyond that border. “We can’t use magic.”

“But magic is our _strength_.” Joohyun, captain of the mages, thinking of the child she’d rescued only months ago. “It’s our only advantage.”

“Kyein already broke the law by disturbing the peace.” Minho argues.

His best friend replies. “If we break the agreed law, we’re no more honourable than he is. Our mages aren’t only good at magic, you know this. They’ve been trained as hard in combat as the rest of the knights.”

Five people, who’ve never experienced the ways of war. What it can do. How to survive. Taemin wonders if there’s anyone still alive from what was supposed to be the last war. No, those left behind from those days would’ve been mere children. Then how are they supposed to know? Books only tell so much. Still, it’s a start. He’ll have to create a larger council, with people who’ve intensively studied the wars of the past. It’s a start. They have to make do with what they have.

“Then we’ll need another advantage.” Minho sighs, and pulls Taemin from his thoughts. “Heavens know how long this fucker has been planning.”

“Changmin.” Jinki straightens in his seat, eyes widening. “Before you banished him, he’d spoken about Kyein creating some kind of secret weapon. I’d tried researching about rare weapons afterwards, but I never found anything that fit his description.”

Kibum bit his lip. “A weapon that could kill anyone in an instant... Jongin had hinted at it too, before Taemin and I got out.”

“Shit.” Minho’s gaze shoots daggers into the table.

Taemin considers, only briefly, reaching out to the prince. Jongin had expressed hatred for his father Kyein, and even joked about doing the same as Taemin. But would he really do it? Taemin can’t afford to count on somebody he’s only spoken to for a total of five minutes. For all Taemin knew, in the last six months Jongin could’ve taken his father’s side and be just as keenly waiting to rain hell with their secret weapons and years of rehearsal.

Even so, they need an advantage. They don’t need to risk trusting those within Kyein’s border to find support.

The king looks up, and finally speaks. “We’ll contact Queen Seohyun. I know she isn’t the violent type, but she should be persuaded if we let her know of Kyein’s ultimate plan to rule all three kingdoms as one.”

“Unless she’s on Kyein’s side?” Minho suggests.

“Seohyun is protective of her people, I doubt she’ll be willing to give them up to Kyein.” Kibum adds. “Especially when many of them are mages.”

And to be a mage under Kyein’s rule means death.

“Exactly.” Taemin rolls his shoulders, relieved to feel some kind of purpose. “I’ll go and speak with her.”

“No, you have to stay here.” Kibum says, firmly. “You’re the king, you’ll be needed in the capitol. I’ll go. Seohyun should still recognise me from last time.”

“You can’t go—”

“I’ll go with him.” Jinki instantly leans in to reassure Taemin. “We’ll be safe as long as we don’t go too close to Kyein’s border.”

They continue the discussion with that decision made for him, nobody sparing the king time to protest. The idea of being holed up in this castle while his friends are out in another kingdom scares him suddenly, more than the mere fact that he could feel such worry for other people. These are friends he’s come to treasure like nobody else. He doesn’t want them to go. They need the advantage. He doesn’t want them to get hurt. They could get hurt in this war if they aren’t prepared enough.

Taemin will have to give a speech to the people. After all this work they’ve put into putting the king in a good light, only for him to tell them he’s lead them straight into war. With the day before being such a dramatic celebration of peace, he could laugh at the irony. Nobody will praise him. Nobody will be on his side. He will be the king who broke the everlasting peace.

“Taemin,” Minho holds him back at the conclusion of their meeting, taking his wrist. “What do you want to do about the messenger?”

He looks down at the hand holding onto him, a bitterness rising in his throat. “What do you mean? Kick him out of here, and let him run back to his king.”

“He could have valuable information.” Minho frowns.

“And you think he’ll give it up for free?” Taemin shakes his head. “Don’t bother, Minho.”

The knight pushes. “There are ways we can get the information out of him.”

Yes. This Minho. Angry flames flickering behind his eyes, and a tightness in his stance. It’s unfamiliar, this extreme level of violent determination on somebody he’d grown accustomed to being only kind. Defensive, and stubborn, but never this quick to abandon his honour out of revenge. Taemin wants to go back to the night before.

“Like what, torture?” Taemin scoffs.

“He _killed_ _Mandae_.” Minho insists, jaw clenching. “Not just... killed. It’s fucked up.” 

“Yeah, and I doubt the messenger had anything to do with it.” Taemin sighs. He’s tired, and disappointed. “It’s fucked up if you punish an innocent for his king’s wrongdoing.”

If Taemin wasn’t so caught up in his own web of issues, he would’ve recognised Minho’s anger as misplaced grief. He would’ve taken the knight’s hand, told him to breathe, and provided comfort in a place where one might believe there is none. But in that moment Taemin is selfish, and pulls away from Minho.

“Whatever.”

Taemin leaves the knight there, and ignores him when he calls his name.

He’s taken, by nobody but himself, through the castle corridors. He walks, and walks, until he finds himself standing in the entrance of a room he’d swore he’d never visit.

The Royal Garden pulls Taemin into its walls, his senses immediately attacked with the smell of fresh grass and plant life. He’s startled at first by how still with silence it is, but the promise of no company lures him in further. If anybody comes looking for him, they won’t think to look here first. The king will return to the world when he’s ready.

He finds what he thinks might be a jade plant first, though he has no real knowledge of plants. Sure enough, a wooden plaque with the first king’s name sits above its roots, reading ‘King Seunghyun’. The man who’d ended the first war, and began this chamber of poetic death. Taemin expects to be disturbed by it—the amount of ashes buried here, with their pretty flowers to pretend that these people will live on within the walls of this garden. But he isn’t. A strange spell of sadness hits him, and he swallows it back. Just behind the small jade plant, standing tall in the centre of the garden, is an apricot tree. Taemin stares at the orange fruit that hang from its branches, then the name plaque below it; ‘Queen Seunghee’. The first king’s daughter, who’d saved the kingdom from the disasters of a post-war economy and raised them to become a society which could continue to grow on its own. 

Their work is going to be undone, the very roots of this kingdom in danger of another war.

Venturing further, he realises there’s a second section to the garden. Taemin gazes mindlessly over the plants he doesn’t recognise, some showing colourful blossoms and others dull with the lingering cold of winter. It crosses his mind briefly that it’s spring now. Then finally there’s a plaque with an unidentifiable stalk, a plant yet to grow to even a resemblance of its full form. He realises he’s holding his breath as he reads the plaque, the name ‘King Hyunmin’ scribed into its wood. So here he is. The former king, in all his glory. Hardly anything, not quite nothing.

“Why am I even here?” Taemin breathes out, yet unable to leave his spot. “You don’t deserve..” he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be here, amongst.. the others. Nobody was pure but none of them were as twisted as you.”

He isn’t sure what it is that wills him to sit down in front of his estranged father’s grave, when he can’t even look in its direction without complete disgust. Simply calling him his father is too much. Taemin crosses his legs, fighting the urge to light the whole place on fire. Cleaning that up would be too much effort, especially with all the shit he already has to deal with outside.

“So what? That was your response to the threat of Kyein’s kingdom?” he recalls it now, how Kyein had pestered Kibum about some apparent spy from their side. “You heard he was preparing for war, and decided the _only_ next step was to kidnap children? Perform some hideous sacrifice to make yourself more powerful?

Of course it was. You probably defended it as a sacrifice for the kingdom, but you were only protecting yourself. You always only thought of yourself. Fucking selfish asshole. Did you just demand all the knights to the capitol to guard your cowardly ass, and leave the rest of the kingdom at risk? Who cares about them, right? While you’re at it, increase the tax for the poor people! As long as you’re safe!”

The dots finally connect, and the image it creates make him ill. He’d thought Hyunmin had taken those children, made the huge show about hunting down the other kingdoms’ royals, out of his own inspired fight for power. It was so much more than that, and now Taemin has to pull together an unprepared kingdom filled with people who’ll no doubt despise him by the end of the day.

“I hate you.” He curls his hands into fists, feeling the flickering of flames spreading through his veins. “You couldn’t just be a decent father and let us live normal lives. You couldn’t resist the throne. You couldn’t just let me run away, you had to cheat your way to the throne and fuck us all over. And then for weeks... _months_ after I finally got rid of you, you still wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Sleepless nights, haunted by the ghost of the man he’d cared nothing about. Taemin had come to understand how tortured Kibum felt by the memory Jungha after they’d driven that blade into her chest. Murder can never be forgotten, washed from hands and mind, no matter how evil that person is. Nightmares chased him anyway, and his hands remained stained red. _Fuck_. He’d been doing so well lately to keep that asshole from his thoughts.

“Now my friends are in danger. Again.”

Kibum. Minho. Jinki. Joohyun. All of them. Eunbi. All those children they’d managed to rescue six months ago. Their friends. Their families.

“Your death was too good, too easy. I should’ve made you suffer more.”

Taemin holds out his hand, and burns the plant from the soil up. This one patch, a single corner in this great and green graveyard, will never grow another damned centimetre of whatever was planted here. The earth will forgive him. If anything, he’s doing the heavens a favour.

Then he just sits there, and stares at the cursed plaque.

He doesn’t keep track of how long he spends sitting in the garden, surrounded by nothing but the flora and fauna, but when he does get up to leave Taemin is only partially surprised to find Jinki leaning against the door. His advisor sends him a warm smile, understanding without words, and lets him outside. Taemin feels strange still, but the anger has dissipated and been replaced with determination. There’s no use dreading over this public announcement when he has no choice but to do it.

“Here,” Jinki passes him a deck of papers, words scrawled over them. “Only if you need it.”

Taemin had used the advisor’s script the day he’d announced Hyunmin’s death because he didn’t know how to lie to an entire kingdom without it. Today is just as heavy, if not more, and the king still isn’t sure he can trust himself to say the right words.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, sliding the deck into his pocket. 

They reach the throne room is less time than he would’ve liked, the rest of his small council already waiting outside. Taemin doesn’t have the guts to look any of them in the eye, and steps through the doors to a hall filled with unsuspecting nobles and civilians.

No time passes at all, and he’s standing before them all.

“Yesterday we celebrated another year of peace. Since the last war, our kingdom has thrived and raised new generations of inventers, creators, and strong willed people. I am proud of those who have ruled before me to guide such a kingdom, and the countless people who continue to contribute to its wellbeing.”

He turns a piece of paper to the back, his hands shaking against the podium. He grips the edge, and takes a deep breath. They can’t see how effected he is.

“Because of all we’ve accomplished, it breaks my heart to tell the people that our days of peace have been disturbed. King Kyein of the southern kingdom has, for no reason other than a vile pursuit of power, declare war upon us.”

Gasps. Whispers. He can’t see how confused, how afraid they suddenly are, but he certainly feels it. Taemin focuses instead on the presence of his friends, just behind him, and allows their strength to seep into him.

“King Kyein’s conditions were clear. It is either we fight against him, or willingly allow him to take this throne and control of our kingdom. Let it be known that if we were to fall to his rule, magic of all kinds will immediately become illegal and face ultimate punishment. King Kyein is bold and cruel, but he underestimates the strength of our people. We must stand and fight together, to protect all that our kingdom has achieved in these years of peace. As your king... I ask that everybody who is able to join in this fight.

Every man, every woman... mage or not, counts towards our victory.”

Word spreads through the capitol of their unexpected call to war, many no doubt spitting words of disdain for their young king who’d lead them into this disaster. Taemin tries not to think about it in the confides of the castle, having too much to do to linger on others’ opinions of him. There are researchers to gather, knights to command back to the capitol, and a growing checklist of to do’s that he knows won’t be complete until the day they leave this land and march into war.

As he walks through the castle halls he runs into Seungwan, and the servant girl is nice enough to ask him he wanted lunch soon. When he insists he’s too busy to stop for food, she’s then bold enough to scold him for skipping breakfast and declare she’s going to provide lunch for him anyway. The servant then goes off on her own way, and Taemin doesn’t realise he’s smiling until she’s already out of sight. 

He stops by Kibum’s study, the door already open enough for him to poke his head inside. The royal physician is with the advisor, the two of them sorting things into a travel sack. Or rather, Kibum sorts while Jinki stands quietly behind him, chin on his shoulder and arm around his waist. Taemin remembers now that they’d agreed to take the role of seeking Seohyun for help, and his chest aches. He didn’t think they’d leave so soon.

Torn between speaking to them and dashing out before he’s noticed, Taemin’s mind is made for him when Jinki turns his head and they lock eyes. Jinki smiles, releasing his hold on Kibum to wave him over. He enters the study, somewhat awkwardly crosses the space between, and meets the couple by the desk. Now would be the perfect time for a witty remark, but he struggles to think of anything.

“Already leaving?” he shakes off the disappointment, replaces it with a grin. “The weather’s nice but surely you’re not that desperate to spend two weeks sleeping on dirt.”

Jinki chuckles. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back here.”

Taemin would want to hurry back too, with a king like him in charge.

He rubs his neck, leaning against the desk. “I was thinking, though. You should make a detour on your way back, and stop by Taebaek for a night.”

Kibum doesn’t say anything, focused on sorting the sack for the tenth time.

“We wouldn’t want to delay our journey any longer, Taemin. It’s nice of you, but...” Jinki frowns.

Inspired by Seungwan’s persistence from earlier, Taemin stands his ground.

“You wanted to go before all this shit blew up.” He crosses his arms. “One night won’t hurt. If you have anything urgent to tell me from your visit to the queen, send a letter.”

His advisor still looks hesitant. “We’ll... Think about it.”

“You’ll think about it, and decide to go.” Taemin nods firmly. “Heavens know when you’ll get a chance to stop by there again.”

The word ‘if’ hangs between them.

There’s a pause as Kibum ties the sack closed, then moves to hang it over Jinki’s shoulder. The couple share a wordless stare, and he wonders briefly what that must be like.

Jinki turns to him, rests a hand on his elbow. “I’ll see you soon. Keep an eye on Minho for me, okay?”

Taemin can only nod. He senses Jinki might want a hug, but to offer him one would make this too real. Instead he’s given another one of those typical smiles, and a moment later the advisor leaves the study.

Kibum watches him now, expression deceivingly neutral.

“What?” Taemin asks. “You going to say something about not burning down the castle while you’re gone?”

“No.”

“Then... What?”

He’s reminded then of the two of them in that damp prison cell, one facing the other.

“You’re right, about not knowing what’ll happen next.” Kibum only begins once he’s also leaning against the desk. “While it’s somewhat morbid, I think... It gives us the chance to say and do the things we wouldn’t before. Like... Without this threat we could die tomorrow anyway, but with it we can’t really convince ourselves of otherwise.”

The king waits a second. “You refused to return to Taebaek... Are you going to go now?”

“Maybe.” Is all the fellow mage gives him. “More than that, I want you to stop pitying me because of what happened in that place. If you have something to ask me, say it. If you want me to do something, order it. What I went through didn’t make me weak.”

Despite Kibum always having a way with straightforwardness, Taemin is thrown instantly by his words. He looks to the physician, and where he expects anger or frustration he only sees determination. Kibum stares back at him, confident, like he knew everything without Taemin having said a word.

“I don’t...”

They’re two sides of the same coin, having experienced dissimilar lives that correspond in ways they shouldn’t. Fleeing from their own families, surviving alone in the shadows, suffering at the hands of people they once trusted. Taemin sees too much of himself in Kibum. No, it isn’t pity. The other mage has dealt with some intense shit, but he never once thought of him as any less because of it. It’s guilt, he realises, that’s held him back. During the one chance Taemin had to protect his friend, he couldn’t. And Kibum suffered, on top of everything he’d already been dragged through.

“I... Do you think...” Taemin tries again, his shoes suddenly the only interesting thing in the room. Honestly, there was a lot he wanted to say but he couldn’t decide what exactly it was, or how to word it. His exhausted mind leads him elsewhere. “Was it a mistake to send those letters?”

“No.” Kibum is so sure of it, Taemin wants to believe too. “Do I think Kyein made the most of the opportunity to make a statement? Of course. But he’s obviously been planning this for a long time, so nothing you’ve done could’ve changed the result. If anything, your attempt to re-establish the peace might make him underestimate you as soft. Which you aren’t.”

None of that could ease the memory of that box, and the thing that rolled onto the floor.

Taemin stretches out a hand, turns it over, and feels the heat still swelling beneath his palm. Hyunmin had underestimated him, too. But it wasn’t only Taemin who created the idea to fool him, he wasn’t alone that day he took the crown. 

“You should doubt yourself, frequently, and listen to the opinions of others.” Kibum rose from his position, and pats Taemin on the shoulder. “But once you’ve made a decision there’s no point regretting it. You just have to keep going on.”

The king considers his words, then grins. “You spend too much time with Jinki. Your motivational speech is almost as ridiculous and poetic as his.”

To this Kibum rolls his eyes, and shoves him. “Fuck you.”

Taemin can’t help it—he snorts. “I don’t think Jinki would like that.”

With that final turn in conversation, the physician entirely gives up and heads for the door.

“Safe travels!” he calls out after him. “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Kibum waves without turning back.

“Sure. Don’t burn down the castle while I’m gone.”

The next hour or so passes in a bit of a daze, with an unending stream of castle staff appearing to ask him questions. The king needs someone to find a temporary royal physician during Kibum’s presence, an estimate on supplies needed for their journey, a way to produce said supplies, and so on. Joohyun is left in charge of training the mages who will train the rest of the mages, Minho likely doing the same with the knights. That is, whenever he’s done torturing the poor messenger for information he potentially doesn’t even have.

Minho is protective of his people, and persistent to do his job to the utmost of his ability, but Taemin has never thought of him as the type to choose violence where it isn’t needed. The thought lingers at the back of his mind, and follows him to his room. Rather than disappointed, there’s a strange part of him relieved to discover such an unlikable side to Minho. Like after so many years of seeing only the good things (disregarding his stubbornness, quick temper, and other idiotic tendencies) Taemin has finally been given a solid reason to not like the royal knight. Whatever feelings could possibly be stirring within him are rubbed away, as if they’d never been there to begin with. It’s cruel, and foolish, but he’s relieved.

Finally, people can’t reach him here. And if they want to they’ll have to knock, a sound which Taemin will definitely pretend he can’t hear. He strips off his royal cloak, removes the crown he’d forgotten was placed on him before the public announcement, and carries himself across his room, onto the balcony. A bustling capitol echoes below him but for once he doesn’t stop to admire the view, dropping to the ground. Taemin sits there, back leaning against brick, head back and eyelids drooping shut.

There is no peace, and very little quiet. Even so, it’s better than whatever’s going on out there.

He hears Minho enter his room before he sees him. Because Taemin knows the way he enters his room, and the sound of his footsteps on the floor. And because, perhaps, a part of him had been anticipating the knight’s presence. The footsteps stop and he opens his eyes to finally acknowledge Minho, who stands in the doorway between inside and the balcony.

Their gazes lock. Taemin waits.

“I saw Jinki and Kibum off.” Minho starts, glancing away. “Earlier.”

“...Yeah.”

While it’s only temporary, Taemin now feels the reality of their absence. It’s going to be an empty couple weeks until their return. He can only hope it’s worth it.

“About... The meeting. After it.” The knight shifts the weight on his feet. “I’m sorry. I acted like an asshole.”

What a fortunate thing that humans are all innately assholes, so Taemin can remind himself not to be shocked. Though that was a whole moment, even for Minho. Relief. He’s relieved. He flashes a grim smile, and pats the ground beside him for the knight to take a seat. The offer is considered, seconds pass, then eventually Minho walks over to sit beside him. Taemin observes the way he sinks into the position, shoulders sagging and head dropping back against the wall.

“It’s fine.” His attempt at comfort sounds strange, like he should be giving him shit for it instead. “You did what you have to do.”

Minho pulls his knees towards his chest, and crosses his arms. It must be uncomfortable with the knightly gear on. “... I didn’t do it.”

Taemin blinks. “What?”

“I couldn’t.” he replies, eyes glazed over like he isn’t quite here. “The knights guarding the castle shouldn’t have allowed the messenger in without checking what was in that box. As their captain it’s my duty to reprimand them for their carelessness, but... I saw them and how fucking terrified they were. They were shit scared, and heartbroken. Mandae was our brother, he was a _good person_ and they had to witness _that_. So I told them... I said... to take the rest of the day off— go home and let their king release the news when he’s ready. What was I supposed to say? To _do_?”

Taemin says nothing. Minho continues.

“So then... I went to question the messenger. I wanted to spook him into revealing Kyein’s secrets, but he looked no better than the others. So I... I tried to just speak with him, and he told me some things but nothing useful or what we didn’t know already, and I knew what the next step should’ve been but instead I just... Left him there. In that cell.”

Relief, genuine relief, hits him now. Whatever part of him that had been selfishly searching for a reason to see the bad in Minho diminishes. The royal knight is good, too damn good, and had simply been caught up in the immediate stress they’d all felt after the revelation that war is upon them. Taemin should’ve known better than to assume the worst. He’s known Minho long enough now to recognise when his friend is fighting to maintain a strong front. But he isn’t sure how comfort works.

“I’m sorry, Tae. I thought I had it under control.” Minho visibly hardens again. “Soojin... Mandae’s wife... She came after the announcement to ask for him. Said she knew he was out on a special mission for the king. Said... Said he promised he’d be back soon.” Stubborn tears start to trickle down his face. “I had to... Tell her. _Show_ her. _Fucking hell_. Her face when she saw him—I...”

Seeing Minho like this, Taemin wishes he could do more.

“Just let it out, Minho.”

Like a command the captain finally falls apart, sobs escaping and shoulders shaking with each breath. Mourning the loss of a friend, like a brother, a comrade, like another part of himself. Grey clouds float over the sun, filtering out the light and the warmth. Spring is here but the last of the snow from winter has only just melted. Wind drifts into their tiny corner of the castle, the capitol, the kingdom, and Taemin suddenly wants to be closer to Minho. So he moves closer, a little more, until their thighs touch and he can wrap an arm properly around Minho’s shoulders.

“I’m g-going to...” Minho mutters. “Kill him. King Kyein.”

It’s just a hint of what’s to come, this agony. Kyein has hurt Kibum, and now he’s hurt Minho.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get in line.” He says. “I’m sending that bastard to the deep pits of hell.”

Minho lifts his head, revealing a mess of tears and snot, and despite the sight of it he isn’t as defeated as he was moments ago. With a gesture that shocks even the king himself, Taemin uses the cuffs of his sleeves to dab the tears from Minho’s cheeks, the knight’s round eyes widening in wordless surprise. Taemin pretends not to notice. Wiping the tears doesn’t erase the pain, or the anger, or what happened, but he might find some kind of solace in it. When Minho sniffles, Taemin pulls his sleeves as far out as possible. He holds them out, and gestures to the other man.

Minho raises his brows. “Serious? You want me to blow my nose into the king’s sleeves?”

“Uh.” Taemin blinks. “I can go look for a handkerchief if you’re really that sophisticated.”

“No! Don’t go.” The knight reaches instantly for his leg, then actually looks a little embarrassed. “I mean... Wow. You’re still that gross kid from the cave. Do you even listen to Jinki’s advice?”

“Jinki told me once to think about what I believe a good king would be.” Taemin grins, not missing a beat. “And henceforth, I believe a good king would let a friend sneeze into his sleeves.”

“Sneeze into—” Minho breathes out what could resemble a laugh. “I can’t believe...”

The pair lean back against the wall with a shared heave of a sigh, and in the space of a few seconds they’re drawn back into the overcast sky and grey of clouds. A few more tears escape Minho, a reminder that a brief conversation and a joke or two can’t change what happened. On instinct Taemin takes his hand, simply because he wants to, and if the knight is startled by another uncharacteristic display of affection he doesn’t show it. The way their hands fit together, fingers threaded and palms warm, might not help at all. Maybe there’s nothing Taemin can do to fix this.

_The chance to say and do the things we wouldn’t before..._

He reaches for something to say, and claims that first thing he touches.

“I’m glad to have you as my captain, Minho.” Another light gust of breeze passes by them. Honestly, he continues. “You’re dedicated to your job, but more importantly you care a lot about the people around you. Today... was fucked up, and I’m sorry you had to deal with so much bullshit. But I’m glad... it’s you.”

Minho turns his head, affords him a slight smile. “Thanks.”

The night before, they were in the seclusion of Taemin’s room with little more than candlelight watching over them. They’d been so close, not just physically but to something more. How weightless it had felt then, with Minho’s hand on his cheek and his heart thudding with anticipation. And how quickly he’d refused it.

He should’ve kissed Minho, last night.

Now, it almost feels too late to start what’s doomed to end.

Minho squeezes his hand, and pulls him back to reality. Whatever thoughts, or feelings had been stirring last night are shoved back under the rug— out of sight. They have a war to prepare for, and they aren’t even finished with day one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long wait! ;; i hope you enjoyed this chapter. onkey are off on a little adventure and leaving 2minjoo to take care of the capitol. the next chapter will be a whole throwback as we follow onkey, so please anticipate it! let me know what you're thinking! every comment gives me the strength to write! ^^


	6. Memoria

“Well. The weather is nice.” 

Kibum breaks out of the reverie he’d been in at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, and looks to see Jinki riding contentedly on his horse, a smile playing on his lips. They’ve been riding for a fair few hours now, having strayed from the capitol and into the countryside. Comments about the weather would be like forced conversation from anyone else, but with the way Jinki seems to be breathing in the very essence of spring it’s difficult not to feel it too. Kibum’s chest warms at the sight, before he places his attention back on his own horse and the journey ahead.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

A clear blue sky, and the sun’s rays pouring onto them. Other than a town in the distance, to their right, there’s only the grass and trees to keep them company to Seohyun’s kingdom. This journey is one neither men want to take, but the necessity outweighs any potential danger. Whether or not the queen agrees to join them into the war, Kibum has to go and find out for himself. And even if there’s a part of him that doubts their chances, he has to hold onto what little hope they have. So it’s here, with his uncertainty and doubt, that Kibum is grateful for Jinki’s presence.

The first sign of trouble occurs when they pass through a rather broad, meandering woods. Kibum breaks out of the last of the trees when he spots a great stretch of empty land. Empty, except for three large, dark figures that loiter meters ahead. He pulls gently on the reins to stop his horse, then squints to get a better look.

“They’re shadow...” Kibum frowns. “Toads?”

Jinki, having also come to a halt by his side, hums in agreement. “We could go around, there’s plenty of distance we could put between us.”

“But if they decide chase after us, we’ll be putting the horses at risk.”

“Yes... And they _are_ big looking toads.”

He looks to his boyfriend, who smiles and gives a slight shrug. So they’ll have to fight. Kibum bites back a groan of annoyance before getting off his horse. He ties the poor animal to the closest tree, promises to be back soon, and unsheathes his sword.

The pair approach the three shadow creatures slowly, keeping their swords low but ready. Jinki separates from him eventually, Kibum noting the axe that sits secured on his back (had it been a less dramatic situation, he would’ve chided the former hunter for carrying unnecessary weight). It’s three against two, and closer now they are really are big toads, so the pair need to do what they can to divert the attention between them. Kibum sizes them up—their acidic bodies infested with darkness that drips to the ground, and glowing eyes with empty slits. Even now they move slowly, or not at all, tossing up between which human to attack first.

While two turn to Jinki, the remaining one begins to croak. A low, almost gurgling sound, and regardless of how dangerous the situation may be Kibum only finds it gross. Unsettling. He lifts his sword.

His timing is fortunate, for not a second later the shadow toad opens its mouth and shoots out its tongue. The thing is incredibly long, and Kibum is only just quick enough to duck and dodge the attack. On instinct he releases a blast of lightning at the toad—watches as it gurgles at the shock before shaking it off. In the time it takes to recover the mage tries inching closer, but the tongue flings out again, so when Kibum tries to cut it off with his sword he’s instead thrown off his feet and hits the ground with a painful thud.

 _Jinki_. The other male is dodging double attacks from the two toads, and it doesn’t take him long to make the same realisation as Kibum. These toads are weighed down by their size, and their main (perhaps only) defence is their ridiculously long tongues that _also_ are hard enough to withstand blade. Kibum curses, gets back on his feet, and casts a freezing spell at one of the toads attacking Jinki. The creature stops, but only momentarily.

Huffing, he meets the glowing stare of the shadow toad before him. Kibum throws another spell from his free hand, this time a gust of wind that’s strong enough to knock the creature off its feet and rolling backwards.

Then, he runs.

Straight at it, his magic growing with each step until it’s almost ready to burst. The toad clambers onto its feet, the thick, black logs spilling more darkness onto the fresh green grass, and predictably shoots its tongue out. Rather than dodging, Kibum allows the slimy thing to wrap around his torso and lift him off his feet, immediately pulling him back to the toad. The creature opens its mouth, a wide void preparing to consume him. Closer, closer, sparks at the fingertips, and just before the toad can take him the mage shocks it with another bolt of lightning. The tongue loosens its hold, but before he’s set free Kibum aims at the roof of the toad’s gaping mouth and jams his sword straight through it.

The creature finally drops him, and with one last gurgle it collapses to its side.

Not wasting time to wait for it to melt away, Kibum leaves his sword behind and rushes back to Jinki, where he’s just finished off one shadow toad. The frozen one begins to stir, eyelids splitting open and towards Jinki. The mage spots the axe sitting on his boyfriend’s back, summons the handle to his hand, and with a grunt gives one desperate throw towards the creature. Miraculously, the blade manages to lodge into the toad’s throat. Without looking back, Jinki moves in to complete the attack.

And, a moment later, the battle is done.

Releasing a huge breath, Kibum closes the distance between himself and the other male.

“It croaked.” Jinki says, turning to him with a grin.

Kibum stares.

“It _croaked_ , Kibum.” And now there’s bubbling laughter. “We killed it. It died. It... Croaked.”

He rolls his eyes, trying not to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of a response but ends up smiling anyway. The shadows melt away now, their darkness spilling into the earth and leaving behind only the weapons that had been lodged inside them. He scrunches his nose at the pungent smell. Then he notices the black substance on Jinki’s arm.

“Did one of them lick you?” Kibum steps forward, and takes Jinki’s hand to get a closer look.

“Yes.” A casual reply. “Regrettably, I’m not as lithe as you are.”

The mage ignores the comment. “It could be poisonous. Let me check you.”

“I’m fine—”

Kibum places his hands on either side of Jinki’s face, stilling him, with his thumbs resting over each temple. It doesn’t matter how careless his boyfriend wants to be; shadow creatures are unpredictable. He is not going to have a repeat of that day Jinki came stumbling into Minho’s home, on the brink of death.

“Kibum, really—”

“Shut up.”

If Jinki had his mouth open, it’s definitely snapped shut now. Kibum closes his eyes to feel for his magic, reach for it, and uses it to search for any signs of poison within the other male. A complicated spell, it takes a while until the mage is completely reassured. Once he pulls away, he’s met with another, more dazed, grin

“You’re amazing, you know.” Jinki says, making the most of the opportunity to circle his arms around the mage’s waste. Doing so only covers him in more of the slimy substance, but it’s already disappearing with the rest of the creatures’ remains. “You’re so talented and smart and strong. I love you with all my heart, Kibum.”

Thrown off by the uncalled for confession, Kibum feels heat rise on his cheeks. But all Jinki does is continue to stare with that soft, affectionate warmth. He’s a grown ass man, for heaven’s sake, yet his heart races.

“I love you too.” He mumbles, foolishly shy. His hands slide from his boyfriends face, to hang his arms around his neck. “I would’ve... Croaked, without you.”

This only brings more sparkle to Jinki’s eyes, before he leans in to press a kiss to his lips.

The joke was dumb, but Kibum can’t deny it was worth it.

Once night falls they settle down on a stretch of grass, with trees behind them. Taemin hadn’t been entirely joking when he said they’d be sleeping on dirt for two weeks— in order to take the shortest route possible, Jinki had suggested they only stop in a town or village if it’s on the way. They don’t take long to occupy the space, with Kibum setting up a campfire while the former hunter ventures off to catch dinner. By the time they’ve eaten the moon hangs high in the sky, and he finds himself drawn to it. A beautiful sky like this could almost allow him to forget the reason why they’re out here.

Jinki nudges nearer to Kibum, then fits an arm around his waist.

“What does the man on the moon think of our journey?” the mage asks, both blissfully reminiscent and worried for the future.

“To stay at home would mean to never know, and be left to wonder.” Jinki says, brushing his thumb back and forth against his waist. “We’re both strong and capable. We’ll be able to protect each other, and return to our king with an answer.”

Kibum bites his lip, thoughtful. Beyond their visit to the queen, he wonders about Taebaek. He sincerely wants to have the courage to return to his hometown, for Jinki, for the pendant that hangs from his neck. But there’s still so much trauma, so many painful memories created in that town.

As if sensing the worry, Jinki presses a reassuring kiss to Kibum’s cheek.

“I’ll take the first watch.” Breath fans against his ear, then another sweet kiss is tucked under his jaw. “Get some sleep.”

There’s no point arguing, so Kibum rolls out the mat in front of the fire and does his best to get comfortable. When Jinki takes a seat beside him, the mage reaches out to take his hand. Without words, the gesture is returned with a gentle squeeze. Kibum closes his eyes, allows his utter adoration of the man holding his hand to fill his thoughts, and sleeps.

Days go by with little disruption until they pass through the boundary, into Seohyun’s kingdom. Moving quietly, keeping their heads down, they make it to the capitol. Kibum, seeing the capitol for a second time now, finds himself more drawn to Jinki’s reaction. Silent wonder, eyes darting between people and buildings as if trying to soak in as much information about this foreign land as possible. 

“They’re not that much different from us, are they?”

Jinki’s first comment is thoughtful, and sticks to the back of the mage’s mind. The first time had been so uncertain, potentially dangerous, that Kibum hadn’t the courage to stop and admire the view— even once Seohyun had proven herself trustworthy. Handing their horses over to castle guards, he still hesitates now. His fingers linger on the halt of his sword, but ultimately he has to give that up too. Kibum takes a breath. A hand is placed on his arm, and Jinki appears by his side. This is fine. He still has his magic.

They’re guided by two tense guards, a man and woman, through the strange, wooden corridors of the castle. He can feel Jinki’s growing curiosity as their shoulders brush. Such traditional designs of buildings, especially ones as grand as this, were abandoned years before the first war broke out. He considers the possibility of magic being tied to this castle, so that despite being so modest in appearance it can stand against any threat. And a threat is coming now.

“Is that the floor whistling?” Jinki asks the guards suddenly, startling both them and Kibum.

The male guard, with wide eyes, makes a motion to reply before the woman nudges his elbow. They exchange almost comedic expressions of scolding and bewilderment, then with some kind of agreement they pointedly ignore Jinki and continue down the corridor.

Unsure of which was weirder—their lack of response or Jinki’s question itself, Kibum sends an inquisitive look to his boyfriend. To this the advisor just taps his own ear, and sure enough once the mage strains his ears he can hear a faint whistling. Like the tweeting of birds, almost, drowned out by their footsteps but there in the distance. Kibum had spent weeks in this castle and never noticed it, but here Jinki is picking up on the sound not even thirty minutes in. He must’ve been more caught in his own mess of a headspace than he’d thought. 

With little time to dwell on the whistling floors, they reach the audience hall and are allowed to enter. It looks identical to the last time Kibum had seen it, with likely the same thirty or so council members standing by each side of the carpet. Queen Seohyun, in her glorious robe and artistically twined hair, smiles from the comfort of her throne.

“Ah, Kibum.” The Queen begins, and he’s admittedly touched she remembers him. “I must say it’s a pleasant surprise to see you. And this is...?”

“It’s been a while, your highness.” Kibum bows. “This is Jinki. He is King Taemin’s advisor.”

Jinki bows now, gracefully holding any query about the floorboards.

“The advisor? Why, I’m flattered the young king would send you all this way just to speak with me.” Seohyun’s elegant features are etched into a slight frown. “I was visited by that handsome knight only weeks ago, did he not inform your king that I would send a messenger when I was ready?”

The physician hesitates, then decides it’s best to get straight to it. “The knight we sent, Sir Mandae, did not return to us... whole.” As much as he tries to shun it away, the image forces its way to the front of his skull. “King Kyein had one of his men bring us his head, and a letter of declaration.”

Seohyun eyes him. “Declaration of what?”

Dozens of people watch him, waiting, anticipating, and suddenly Kibum feels a great deal of pity for Taemin who had to be the first to inform an entire kingdom that war is upon them.

“War, your highness.” Gasps are heard throughout the hall. “Kyein has demanded that Taemin either hands over the kingdom willingly, or meet him in battle.”

“War...” The queen’s gentleness disappears, for something much darker. “I’ve never trusted that worm of a king, but to taint the peace like this...”

Jinki finally speaks. “Forgive my intrusion, your highness. Kyein made it clear that he desires control of all three kingdoms. He claims it is his birthright.”

“If we were to fail in battle with him, his next step would be to take your kingdom.” Kibum continues. “Our king wishes to unite on the battlefield, and ensure that Kyein is defeated before either of our kingdoms experience great loss.”

The queen, with her gaze now turned to detached and calculating, takes a long moment to consider their proposal. She sits, speechless. The council members who are sober enough to step forward, as if to address their queen, is sent back with a wave of Seohyun’s hand. Whatever the purpose of these countless council members is, she does not seem concerned with their opinions right now.

“My kingdom is strong, and my people have always been prepared should any threat claw its way into our land.” Queen Seohyun shares. “I worked hard to become a ruler who instils love, hope, into all who live here. And so, our loyalty is such that we will fight to protect each other until our dying breath. This is how my people have lived for years, and how we will continue to thrive.

“It is because of this, and how much I cherish each person who lives under my rule, that I will not send them into a battle that is not theirs.”

Kibum pales. “Your highness—”

“Spare me your arguments.” She cuts in. “I do believe in true peace between the kingdoms, but my people come first, and I cannot risk needless death.”

The mage steps forward now, determined not to let this go without really trying. There are murmurs amongst the council, movement in the guards. Kibum itches for his magic. “How can you preach peace, if you won’t fight for it? We have faith in our king, don’t think otherwise, yet our numbers are low and incredibly inexperienced when compared to Kyein’s.”

“Then you will have to fight twice as hard.” Seohyun rebuts, unfazed. “And see to it that cruel, pathetic excuse for a human is eliminated.”

So, that’s it.

There’s no winning this.

For all the lack of expectations Kibum had for this, the fact that their journey has been for nothing still stings.

“Okay. We understand your feelings, Queen Seohyun.” Jinki finalises. “We respect your dedication to the safety of your people.”

Seohyun softens now, the curve in her lips nearing sympathetic. “I do hope your king is able to see you all through these dark days. The two of you have travelled a great distance. Please, accept my hospitality and stay the night. I’m sure you’re in the need of good food, a firm bed.”

Kibum shakes his head, and mimics his boyfriend’s polite submission. “I’m afraid we must refuse, your highness, but thank you. Our king is awaiting our return, so we need to leave quickly.”

There’s a beat of silence, like they need to await her permission, then the queen hums.

“So be it.” She says, the sweetness of her voice now laced with betrayal. “Your visit this time has been brief. I wish you luck during the coming days, and hope to see you and the young king someday soon.”

The physician and advisor bow together, say their thanks once more, then are escorted from the great hall. It’s quiet enough now, with even the guards silenced by the previous conversation, that Kibum does hear the floorboards whistling as they walk. It doesn’t do much to distract him from the apprehension settling in his chest.

A clear sky, radiant heat, greets them when they step outside. Navigating back through the streets, they pass through crowds of people. Children laughing, playing, and storekeepers boasting their latest luxury products. These people are all safe, for now, and unaware of the war brewing outside. Kibum tries not to think of how much their own kingdom has changed since the news hit. They take the horses, their supplies, and leave the capitol of Queen Seohyun’s kingdom, planning on disappearing back into the countryside and as close to their own land as they can until night falls.

The thought of writing the bad news to Taemin is unsettling, and he frequently has the urge to go back and debate with that woman one last time. No matter how she refuses to budge, no matter what threat her council and guards would try to pose. It would be easier than admitting they have to go into this war both underprepared and outnumbered. Jinki doesn’t speak as they ride, bless him, probably aware that Kibum is far too consumed by his own thoughts to have a chat about the weather. The sun may be shining, but a dark cloud hangs above him. Some hours into the ride he realises they’re riding in the direction of Taebaek, rather than directly to the capitol. A part of him still hesitates, begs him not to go, though the mage tries to bury it down for the sake of his boyfriend. 

Jinki. Sweet, good, patient Jinki. Kibum looks over to him and his heart hurts.

“Jinki.” He calls gently, and the instant smile he receives is as warm as the sun spilling through the clouds. “What if... I don’t want to go to Taebaek?”

“Then we won’t go.” The advisor replies easily.

Controlling himself, Kibum slows his horse. “Just like that? But you want... you need to go.”

His given a slightly confused frown. “It’s fine, Kibum. I won’t go anywhere without you.”

“No— That’s not what I mean.” Something akin to irritation swells in his chest. Jinki’s relentless hope, optimistic view, is so out of place when they’ve just been told they’re going into war alone. “You’ve been waiting to go back there for months, and this is the last chance you’ll get for what could be even more months, but you’d be willing to skip it just because I didn’t want to go?”

“Yes.” Another simple response, Jinki looks entirely unaffected by the point Kibum’s trying to make.

“Doesn’t that annoy you?” he tries again. “Why aren’t you _upset_ with me?”

His boyfriend pauses, appearing to be considering his own feelings. “I suppose it’s a shame, but I’m not upset. I understand why you don’t like Taebaek, Kibum, and I’d never hold that against you.”

That’s not it.

Kibum brings his horse to a full halt, and breathes out the tightness in his chest before swinging himself to the ground. He just needs a moment, to breathe, to step away and gather himself. He isn’t being understood. He needs to be clearer. He hears Jinki dismount his own horse and walk towards him. Kibum glares at the blades of grass at his feet, then to the horizon, aware he’s disrupted their journey for a childish emotional breakdown.

“Kibum.” Jinki is by his side now. “What’s on your mind?”

He almost refuses to answer, if only to hold onto a minute longer of stubborn silence, but the urge to get this weight off his chest is stronger.

“In all these months we’ve been dating...” the mage begins, voice cautiously steady. “You’ve never once been angry with me. Even when I’ve come to you with stupid, frustrated rants you just sit there and listen. When I say I don’t want to do something, even when I _know_ you really want to do it you just say ‘okay’ and let it be. I don’t even need a _reason_ ; you accept it with that _smile_ and move on like nothing happened.” 

“You... don’t want me to smile?”

Oh heavens. Kibum fights back a groan, rubbing his temples. “Jinki, _please_. Normal couples fight from both sides. Instead I’m always the crazy, moody asshole and you just let me get away with it. The most I’ve ever seen you do is huff and puff when you’re bothered. It’s either you’re never angry or you just... Hide it from me.”

There’s a hand on his arm.

“I thought you liked my huff and puffing.” The light joke makes him finally look up to shoot daggers at Jinki, and he’s met again with that gentle stare. Damn it. Kibum softens instantly. “Come on, Kibum. We just have different ways of feeling, and expressing those feelings. When something’s upsetting you I’m never going to get angry, or yell. I want to _listen_.”

“But...”

“If I was ever upset, I’d let you know.” Jinki ensures. “I promise.”

That’s exactly the problem.

Kibum knows he has his specific set of issues, including emotional trauma that has yet to be entirely consoled, but even right now he feels like a mess compared to this relaxed, composed man. And he hates it— hates this is how he is, that he can’t keep his emotions in check. Jinki hasn’t once lost his patience, his temper, over the course of their relationship. Admittedly, there’s been moments when Kibum has tried to egg him into arguing just to see if there’s any fight in his boyfriend. Always, every time, without a doubt Jinki will respond gently and wait for his outburst to settle down. It’s maddening. It’s scary.

“But, Jinki...” he drops his gaze to the hand on his arm, and reaches out to hold his boyfriend’s elbow. “If... If you can’t get angry with me, or fight back when I’m being an asshole, how are you... How will you kill people?”

A cool wind breezes by them. One of the horses sigh.

As if the irritation had just been a layer, it breaks away.

“I suppose... I won’t have much of a choice.” Jinki says it, but doesn’t sound like he believes it. “The idea of it is terrifying, but we have to fight for our kingdom.”

Last year, they fought to save Kibum and ended up struggling to save the entire kingdom. That had been hard enough. War is on a whole other level, too large to comprehend, and a terrible thing they’d only heard of in books. It’s mass slaughter. It’s a brutal battle of death which only the strongest, or the luckiest, survive.

“But could you do it, really?” Kibum wants a real answer. “Could you, Jinki, kill someone?”

“I’m not unfamiliar with death.”

“Hunting animals doesn’t count.” And neither does finishing off shadow creatures. No, as skilled as Jinki is, this is too much. “These will be _humans_. And just like Seohyun’s kingdom they’ll look no different from us.”

“And, I’m sure similar to them, it’ll be my duty for the sake of the kingdom to fight.”

“I don’t want you to fight!”

Kibum tears himself away, a step back. When he finds the courage to meet his boyfriend’s gaze it’s to an open sadness, one which sends a wave of guilt. He shouldn’t have stepped back, but it’s already too late.

“I don’t...”

He can’t find the words. All he has is images of his sweet, _good_ , patient Jinki surrounded by the cruelty, the violence of war. The illusions Jungha had forced him to look at that night in the cave, of Jinki beaten and bloody. They’re all he sees. All he feels. He tries to pull away from them too, but they won’t leave him. He can’t run. He can’t hide.

“Kibum.”

Calling, calmly. Touching, lightly. A hand is on Kibum’s cheek, and guides his reluctant stare to Jinki’s face. He flinches at first, but there’s already another set of fingers combing through his hair and a thumb brushing behind his ear. Kibum breathes. And again, and again.

“I love you.” Jinki says, lips curved just enough. “I don’t want to fight, and I don’t want you to. If we have to fight, then we’ll do it together. We’ll get through this together.”

Whatever answer Kibum’s waiting for isn’t given, but he accepts this. He accepts Jinki, and the fact that he’s trying. Nothing about the war becomes less terrifying, and none of his fears are quelled. However, in this moment Jinki is here. His stare his warm, his touch his warm, and as Kibum steps in for an embrace the arms that enclose around him are like a comforting blanket. He drowns in it, and when he takes a deep breath he relishes the scent of Jinki.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry.”

Lips press against the crown of his head. Love hurts. It hurts so, so much.

“Don’t be sorry.” Jinki soothes him. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

Once they continue onwards the tension dissipates, sinks away with the falling of the sun. Jinki needs to be reassured more than once that Kibum still wants to go to Taebaek, but other than that the conversation is left behind them. Kibum’s worry for his boyfriend still follows him, yet is challenged by his growing resolve to do anything he can to protect Jinki. They’re in this together.

They stop in the first village they reach and send a letter to the king, then some days later they make it to Taebaek. Riding their horses through the streets, the town and the people look no different than when Kibum last saw them. Even so, it feels different. An uneasiness, and a reminder at the back of his mind that only last year he was hiding out of fear for his life. That despite the occasional kind person, never a mage, anybody who recognised him and wanted to be in Jungha’s good books would report him in an instant. Jinki has told him, and very timely reminded him the night before, that anyone who supported that woman was shunned from the community. The fact doesn’t entirely manage to shake off the memories, though.

Jinki’s home is just large enough for the former hunter to have lived alone, and from the outside alone there’s a sense of homeliness. It’s such a stark contrast to the giant castle they live in now, Kibum wonders if all he really wants is a modest place like this. They tie the horses at the back of the house, feed them, and there’s nothing left to stall them.

“Is there anything you want to do?” Jinki asks from the other side of his horse.

Kibum looks to the sky. It’s been overcast all day, clouds looming with no sign of rain.

“I want to be by myself for a while.” He looks to his boyfriend, quietly concerned he’d be offended, but of course not.

“Okay.” the simple response he’s given, as the royal advisor walks over to him. “I’m going to check in with Minho’s parents for a little while, then I’ll be at Kyunghee’s.”

“Okay.”

Jinki smiles, and places a kiss on his cheek. “Take care. Come find me if you need me.”

“I will.”

They part ways, Kibum spending a moment longer in Jinki’s backyard to gather himself, before a horse whinny’s and jolts him out of his hesitation. Strolling through the town alone is a lot more uncomfortable than with Jinki, and everyone who looks at him seems to do so with faint recognition. For all intents and purposes he sets out on avoiding the mage’s district. Despite this, his legs lead him there by habit. On the edge of the district, he passes by Misook’s old potion store first. Still sitting alone, abandoned, like it had been during the months he hid within its walls. Would he have preferred to see it taken over by someone new? He can’t tell, although there is something sad about his grandmother’s work being forgotten, left to gather dust.

Regardless of how many passers-by peer at him in disbelief, nobody approaches him. It’s almost just how he likes it— the ideal situation being that they don’t glue their eyes to him like a ghost come back from the dead. In a town like this everybody knows everybody, and it doesn’t take long for news to travel. While they certainly wouldn’t know he’s the one who finished the bitch mage who’d controlled the distract for years, whether or not they’re aware of his position in the castle is left to speculation. He wouldn’t be surprised if sweet Kyunghee had told anyone she bumped into. 

Lost in nostalgia, he soon finds himself in front of a particular house. Strange, how much a place can look exactly the same yet feel entirely foreign. He’d felt it for much of his walk through Taebaek, but standing before of his childhood home it’s even more bizarre. There are plenty of fond memories, all having taken place before the curse ruined everything, and though they’re faded at the ends he can conjure them now. Still, the freshest memory of all is the day he left home. A heated argument with his parents, the stabbing pain of Soojung’s death, Misook’s death, and the single instant he decided to pack his bag and run.

He wants to turn around, and go back in the other direction. This house holds too much. Memories, and pain, and danger. Unexpectedly he thinks of Taemin, and how the kid had hated his father with a passion, hates him now, but couldn’t shake the effects of his death for months. He probably thought Kibum didn’t notice.

A woman approaches from a distance, crossing the road and heading towards him. She gets closer, and the mage struggles to move. Her hair has lost its shine, but her back is as straight and composed as ever. There’s a weariness in her steps, and once her face is near enough he can see the wrinkles settling into her skin. The woman doesn’t spot him at first, until she’s barely two metres away.

The woman gasps like she’s been shocked by a wave of lightning, a hand raising to her mouth.

“Hi,” Kibum swallows, begging himself to stay still. “Mum.”

Unsurprisingly, Kyunghee is more than welcoming when Jinki shows up at her doorstep. The elderly mage ushers him inside, serves a fresh pot of tea, insists that he tells her everything that’s been happening (despite him frequently updating her through letters). While he’d been sincere with Kibum when he’d said he wouldn’t mind missing a visit to Taebaek, he can’t deny the rush of relief he gains simply from being here. Meeting with Minho’s parents had been pleasant, and he’d missed them dearly, but Kyunghee has always been the adult he could open his heart to.

“And you say Kibum came with you?” the woman tuts. “Well, where is the young man?”

Being a close friend of Misook, it’s only natural she’d want to see Kibum too.

“He’s spending some time by himself, today.” Jinki explains. “I think... He needed it.”

Kyunghee doesn’t bother to hide her disappointment, and sighs. “I understand. I’m sure he has an awful lot on his mind, coming back to this town.”

“If he doesn’t today, I’ll make sure to bring him by tomorrow.” He reassures her. “Before we head onto the capitol.”

There’s a break in the conversation, though the woman seems content with his answer. As grateful as Jinki is for this short stay in Taebaek, he knows they can’t linger too long tomorrow. After sending the letter he worries what state the castle might be in now, and if his friends are doing okay. They may all be strong, capable people but he knows they’re all stronger when they’re together. And this is no ordeal to be going through alone. Jinki takes another sip of his tea, gazing out the window.

“After we left Seohyun’s kingdom, Kibum expressed his... Concern for my ability to fight.” The advisor isn’t bitter, not really, but the conversation has stuck with him for all the days since. “He’s worried I won’t be able to... Do what’s necessary.”

Cautiously, he awaits Kyunghee’s response. The woman ponders over her thoughts, then places her cup on the cluttered kitchen table.

“I was but a child when the war ended, and my father finally returned home to our family.” She shares, the shimmer in her eyes distant. “Many kinds of people went to war, and many died. It didn’t make a difference if they were bold, or desperate, or soft-hearted. Death doesn’t discriminate, war doesn’t hesitate.”

He considers this elderly woman, and how after years of knowing her there are still things he’s yet to learn.

“I didn’t know your father fought.”

Kyunghee nods slowly. “He did, and he was one of the lucky who survived. But war changed him, as it changed the world, and he sacrificed a lot to come back to us. That is the one thing I need you to take with you today, Jinki.”

“Sacrifice?”

Something in her tone shifts, and Jinki recalls the letter she’d written about himself and Kibum being fated to meet. The hidden magic of sight he’s always suspected she has, yet has never had the chance to confirm.

“Yes. If you want to win this war... Obtain peace... Know that there will have to be a great sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice of what?”

She frowns. “I cannot say. You must only trust me, as I will trust that when the time comes you will be strong enough to face it. And I do trust you, Jinki. You are far stronger than you or anyone else will ever know.”

Kibum, Minho, Taemin, Joohyun... Everybody. Jinki would be willing to sacrifice anything to protect them, save them. He cannot tell what this sacrifice must be. It seems that the fate of the kingdom rests upon this unknown yet drastic fact. His fingers itch to know the truth, while his heart aches for the knowledge that there really is no escaping this war. They have to fight. He will fight. No matter what it takes.

Waiting outside Kyunghee’s, Kibum watches the children that pass him through the district’s main square. They play about, carefree and wild, and all over again he yearns for those days of freedom. A life without responsibility, without awareness of the darkness of the world. There’ll always be a part of him that hates he had to end Jungha’s life, the very horror of it still chasing his dreams, but he knows Taebaek is better because of it. The kingdom is better. Or at least, it was.

Jinki leaves the elderly mage’s house some time later, and smiles when their eyes meet.

“You don’t want to say hi?” his boyfriend asks, then takes his hand.

Kibum shrugs, only slightly guilty. “I adore her, but I’ve done enough socialising for one day.”

They begin to stroll through the district, and now enough time has passed to adjust he doesn’t mind the stares as much. He threads their fingers together, feeling all the more appreciated of the man beside him.

“Oh?” Jinki looks to him.

“Oh.” He mimics, with a smile. “I saw my parents. They were... Shocked, to say the least.”

“I’m sure they were.” They turn a corner into a smaller street, a small squeeze of his hand encouraging him to continue.

“I made it clear I struggle to see them as my parents anymore, but I could tell they’re still grieving. And I guess... I feel sorry for them.” That was the emotion he’d settled on— pity. There isn’t room for anger when there’s too many other things to be angry about these days. “I understand now, they didn’t mean to push me out of home. They just had no idea how to... Cope.”

Jinki hums in consideration. “It must’ve been difficult, for you.”

“It was strange, and awkward as hell.” He admits, recalling how he’d felt uncomfortable simply sitting in the kitchen of his childhood home. “I can’t just jump back into their arms because they feel bad, you know. I know I was an adult by that time, but they were my parents. They should’ve known better.”

“You’re right.” His boyfriend squeezes his hand.

“So it’s...” he heaves a sigh. “Difficult, yeah. Still... I don’t regret going.”

The couple come to a gradual stop when they reach the town’s graveyard. Kibum needs only to glance at Jinki before stepping through the entrance. It occurs to him now that this is his first time here since they day they buried Misook. This place, filled with a quiet sadness, rows of tombstones and the grey clouds that hang above. He doesn’t take long to find them, side by side, grandmother and granddaughter. Kibum gets to his knees, noticing Jinki had stopped to wait some rows behind him. Alone, he acknowledges the tombstones of Soojung and Misook.

“I’m sorry I took so long to come back.” He greets them softly, unsure where to begin. “I needed to... End things...”

There’s no real words to truly describe how it feels to sit before the graves of his sister, taking by a curse of dark magic, and his grandmother, following with a grief that was too much to carry. Kibum has spent years with guilt, burden, and unshakable heartache. Years apologising to the ghosts of his loved ones, that he couldn’t save them. He couldn’t end the curse before it ended everything that was precious to him. Tears escape him, giving him no time to hold them back. Seeing them here like this is just another harsh reminder that they really are gone. No amount of magic can change this.

“S-Sorry... I know you w-wouldn’t approve of me sitting here sobbing like... Like a baby.” A light chuckle escapes him, and he wipes the wetness from his cheeks. The tears keep falling despite his efforts. “I j-just _really miss you_.”

There is too much pain, too much darkness still in the world. So, Kibum tells them about good things; life in the capitol, where he can use what Misook taught him to make potions and heal the unwell. The sights and food and people of the capitol that are plenty more exciting than the small and repetitive Taebaek. How he watched an entire city be blanketed in snow, then melt away with the sweet warmth of spring. Good things. He doesn’t want to be alive without them, and not appreciate what good things he still has.

When Kibum looks behind him, calling quietly, and gains Jinki’s attention immediately. Sniffling, yet trying a smile, he waves his boyfriend over to sit beside him. And his heart sooths instantly when Jinki sits on his knees, bows to the graves in front of him, then proceeds to introduce himself.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer right now, but I’ll make sure to stop by tomorrow with flowers. Please, forgive my rudeness.” Jinki bows again, his forehead touching the grass. Once he straightens, he sends a subtle glance towards the mage. “For now, shall I share some embarrassing stories about our Kibum?”

“Jinki!” Kibum shoves the older man, who laughs. His broad grin, crinkled eyes, like a great ray of sunshine.

Sweet, good, patient Jinki.

Kibum never wants to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> It took some time, but I think I'm finally ready to continue with this story. Speed in updates will depend on how life goes but also tbh what the response is like. 


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